L  / 


LIBRARY    OF    THE    THEOLOGICAL    SEMINARY 

PRINCETON.     N.    J. 
PRESENTED  BY 


,  DR.    F.    L.    PATTON 

1 


JP 


Division S.S  '^-'i-  I  O 

copy  ( 


Section 


V' 


THE 


.11  IN  ''^^  1914 


PARABLES  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR 


EXPOUNDED    AND    ILLUSTRATED 


BY 

WILLIAM  M.  TAYLOR,  D.D.,  LL.D. 

PASTOR    OF   THE  BROADWAY  TABERNACLE,  NEW   YORK   CITY 


NEW  YORK 

A.    C.    ARMSTRONG    &    SON 

714  Broadavay 

1886 


COPYRIOHT,    1886, 

By  a.  C.  ARMSTRONG  &  SON. 


HAND.    AVERT,   &  COMPAITT, 

ELE0TR0TTPER3  AND  PRINTERS. 

BOSTON. 


To  THE  Members  of 

^t^  Broatitoag  Caljcruacle  (Itongrcgation, 

New  York. 
My  dear  Friends, — 

Permit  me  to  inscribe  to  you  these  discourses,  delivered  in 
your  hearing,  and  now  published  at  the  request  of  many  among 
you.  In  doing  so,  let  me  express  my  gratitude  to  God  for  the 
unbroken  peace  and  the  unalloyed  affection  which  has  existed 
between  us  from  the  beginning  of  our  relationship  until  now, 
and  my  prayer  that  he  may  continue  to  bless  us  with  that 
prosperity  which  springs  from  his  presence  with  us,  and  his 
power  upon  us. 

Believe  me. 

Your  friend  and  pastor, 

WM.   M.   TAYLOR. 

New  York,  November,  188G. 

5  West  Thirty-fifth  Street. 


PEEFAOE. 


The  parables  of  our  Lord  have  always  had  a  special 
attraction  for  students  of  the  Gospels,  and  there  are 
probably  more  works  devoted  to  their  exposition  than 
to  that  of  any  other  portion  of  the  Saviour's  teach- 
ings. In  adding  another  to  the  number,  I  can  claim 
only  such  originality  as  may  be  fairly  accounted  for  by 
what  astronomers  have  called  the  "personal  equation;" 
and  the  result  may  be  a  further  illustration  of  the 
many-sidedness  of  these  exquisite  stories.  To  Arch- 
bishop Trench,  who  more  than  any  other  English  writer 
has  brought  Patristic  lore  to  bear  upon  the  illustration 
of  the  parables,  every  later  author  must  express  his 
peculiar  obligations ;  but  the  recent  works  of  Professor 
Bruce  and  Siegfried  Goebel  have  broken  new  ground 
in  this  department,  and  my  aim  has  been  to  turn  their 
fruitful  suggestions  to  good  homiletical  account.  The 
little  volumes  of  Dr.  Dods  —  only  th^  first  of  which 
was  in  my  hands  when  these  discourses  were  prepared 
—  are  full  of  golden  nuggets;  and  the  Expositions  of 
William   Arnot   are    characterized   by   the    masculine 


\i  PREFACE. 

sense,  ricli  Christian  experience,  and  striking  illustra- 
tions for  which  he  was  so  remarkable.  But  the  present 
work,  while  more  or  less  indebted  in  different  respects 
to  all  these  authors,  will  be  found  to  be  in  others  in- 
dependent of  them  all.  It  is  given  to  the  press  at 
the  urgent  request  of  many  who  heard  the  discourses 
when  delivered ;  and,  such  as  it  is,  it  is  laid  at  the  feet 
of  Him  whose  sayings  it  is  designed  to  illustrate,  with 
the  prayer  that  he  would  use  it  for  the  glory  of  his 
name,  in  the  edification  of  his  Church,  and  the  con- 
version of  men. 

WM.   M.   TAYLOR. 


COI^TEIsTTS. 


PAGE 

I.  Inteoductoky 1 

II.  The  Fouk  Kinds  of  Soil 17- 

'      III.  The  Tares,  and  The  Dkag-net      ....  38 

IV.  The  Mustard-Seed,  and  The  Leaven      .        .  54 

V.  The    Hidden    Treasure,    and   The    Pearl  of 

Great  Price 70 

VI.  The  Unmerciful  Servant 86 

VII.  The  Laborers  in  the  Vineyard       .       .       .  104 

VIIL  The  Two  Sons 121 

IX.  The  Wicked  Husbandmen  .         ....  137- 

X.  The  Koyal  Marriage-Feast 149 

XI.  The  Ten  Virgins 164 

-      XII.  The  Intrusted  Talents 180 

XIII.  The  Growth  of  the  Seed 196 

XIV.  The  Two  Debtors 210 

XV.  The  Good  Samaritan 226 

^    XVI.  The  Friend  at  Midnight 243 

XVII.  The  Foolish  Rich  Man 259 

XVIII.  The  Barren  Fig-Tkee 276 

XIX.  The  Great  Supper 290 

XX.  The  Lost  Sheep 305 

XXI.  The  Lost  Coin  ........  320 

vii 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

XXII.    The  Prodigal  Son 337 

XXIII.  The  Elder  Brother 356 

XXIV.  The  Prudent  Steward  .       .       o       .       .       .  371 
XXV.    The  Kich  Man  and  Lazarus    ....  387 

XXVI.    The  Ploughing  Servant 402 

XXVII.    The  Importunate  Widow,  and  The  Pharisee 

and  the  Publican 415 

XXVIII.    The  Pounds 481 


THE  PARABLES   OF   OUR  SAVIOUR. 


I. 

INTRODUCTORY. 

"He  spake  many  things  unto  them  in  parables."  —  Hatt.  xiii.  3. 

As  we  enter  upon  the  exposition  of  the  Saviour's 
parables,  we  are  met  by  two  or  three  preliminary  ques- 
tions, the  answers  to  which  will  determine,  to  a  consid- 
erable extent,  the  character  and  quality  of  our  work. 
To  the  consideration  and  settlement  of  these,  therefore, 
we  shall  devote  this  introductory  discourse. 

I.  First,  what  is  a  parable  ?  In  the  New  Testament, 
two  Greek  words  have  been  rendered  by  this  one 
English  term.  The  one  of  these,  Trapoifita,  is  almost 
peculiar  to  the  fourth  Evangelist,  seeing  that  he  uses  it 
four  times,  while  it  occurs  only  once  elsewhere ;  to  Avit, 
in  2  Pet.  ii.  22,  where  it  is  translated  "  proverb."  Lit- 
erally it  signifies  "something  by  the  way;"  and  in  its 
secondary  sense  it  denotes  a  figurative  discourse  or 
dark  saying,  in  which  more  is  meant  than  meets  the  ear, 
and  into  which  much  valuable  though  hidden  meaning 
has  been  closely  packed.  The  other  and  more  common 
term,  irapafi-A^,  which,  curiously  enough,  is  never  used 
by   John,  while  it  is  the  only  one   employed  by  the 

1 


2  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

other  Evangelists,  is  simply  the  English  word  in  Greek 
V  letters.  It  comes  from  a  verb  which  signifies  to  throw 
or  place  side  by  side,  and  denotes  a  placing  of  one  thing 
beside  another  for  the  purpose  of  comparison,  or,  more 
generally,  an  utterance  which  involves  a  comparison. 
It  is  used  by  the  sacred  writers  both  in  a  wider  and  in 
a  narrower  sense.  In  the  wider  sense,  it  is  emploj^ed 
sometimes  to  denote  an  adage,  or  proverb  properly  so 
called ;  ^  sometimes  to  signify  a  sentiment  so  briefly  and 
darkly  worded  as  not  to  be  easily  understood  ;  ^  some- 
times to  designate  a  pithy  instruction  couched  in  the 
form  of  an  aphorism ;  ^  and  sometimes  to  describe  a 
lesson  which  is  confirmed  by  a  simile  drawn  from  na- 
\j  ture.*  But,  in  its  more  restricted  sense,  it  is  the  name 
given  to  a  connected  narrative,  whether  of  events  in 
human  life  or  of  a  process  in  nature,  by  which  some 
great  spiritual  truth  is  illustrated  or  enforced.  It  is 
not  a  mere  simile,  which  may  be  expressed  in  a  single 
clause ;  or  even  a  detailed  comparison  of  one  thing  to 
another :  but  a  little  history,  which  might  be  read 
merely  for  its  own  sake,  but  which,  as  used  by  the 
Great  Teacher,  was  made  the  vehicle  of  instruction  or 
>  warning,  of  comfort  or  condemnation.  The  little  girl 
/  was  very  near  the  mark,  when  she  said  that  a  parable 
^  is  "an  earthly  story  with  a  heavenly  meaning;"  and 
we  may  not  be  far  wrong  if  we  define  it  to  be  a  nar- 
rative true  to  nature  or  to  life,  used  for  the  purpose  of 
conveying  spiritual  truth  to  the  mind  of  the  hearer. 
Its  force  depends  on  the  analogy  which  exists  between 
God's  works  in  nature  and  providence,  and  his  opera- 
tions in  grace.  The  world  of  nature  came  at  first 
from,  and  is  still  sustained  by,  the  -hand  of  Him  who 
formed   the   human   soul ;    and   the   administration    of 

1  Luke  iv.  23.      2  Matt.  xv.  15.      3  Luke  xiv.  7.      ^  Matt.  xxiv.  32. 


INTRODUCTORY.  3 

providence  is  carried  on  by  Him  who  gave  to  us  the 
revelation  of  his  will  in  the  Sacred  Scriptures,  and 
provided  for  us  salvation  through  his  Son.  We  may 
expect,  therefore,  to  find  a  principle  of  unity  running 
through  all  these  three  departments  of  his  administra- 
tion ;  and  a  knowledge  of  his  operations  in  any  one 
of  them  may  be  helpful  to  us  in  our  investigation  of 
the  others. 

The  use  which  was  made  of  this  truth  by  Bishop 
Butler,  in  his  great' work  on  "The  Analogy  of  Religion, 
Natural  and  Revealed,  to  the  Constitution  and  Course 
of  Nature,"  is  known  to  every  student  of  the  Christian 
evidences.  Postulating  that  the  course  and  constitu- 
tion of  nature  are  maintained  by  God,  he  shows  that 
the  difficulties  which  emerge  in  revelation  are  precisely 
parallel  to  those  which  meet  us  in  nature  and  in  provi- 
dence, and  draws  these  two  conclusions :  namely,  that, 
as  we  have  met  difficulties  in  these  other  departments, 
we  ought  not  to  be  surprised  to  meet  similar  difficulties 
in  revelation,  coming  as  that  does  from  the  same 
divine  Author ;  and  that,  as  in  the  one  case  the  diffi- 
culties are  not  regarded  as  sufficient  to  invalidate  our 
belief  that  the  constitution  and  course  of  nature  are 
from  God,  so  in  tlie  other  they  ought  not  to  be  allowed 
to  stand  in  the  way  of  our  acceptance  of  the  Scriptures 
as  from  him.  The  argument  is  irrefutable  by  those 
who  admit  the  postulate  with  which  he  sets  out ;  and 
they  who  reject  it  at  all  can  do  so  consistently,  only 
by  accepting,  as  unhappily  James  Mill  did,  the  dreary, 
unrelieved  darkness  of  absolute  atheism. 

The  existence  of  this  analogy  lies  also  at  the  root  of 
the  finest  poetry,  and  accounts  for  the  effect  produced 
upon  us  by  the  revelation  of  those  hidden  harmonies 
which  genius  has  discovered  and  revealed.     Not   sel- 


4  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

dom,  too,  the  physical  philosopher  has  l)een  led  by  the 
same  principle  to  some  of  his  grandest  discoveries ;  and, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  great  German,  the  insight  of  the 
poet  has  been  combined  with  —  has,  indeed,  contributed 
to  —  the  eminence  of  the  man  of  science.  Thus  all 
things  are  double,  one  against  another.  The  external 
is  the  mirror  in  which  we  may  behold  the  internal  and 
spiritual ;  and  Milton  was  not  wrong  when  he  said,  — 

"  What  if  earth 
Be  but  the  shadow  of  heaven  and  things  therein, 
Each  to  the  other  like,  more  than  on  earth  is  thought  ?  " 

Hence  a  true  parable  is  something  more  than  a  mere 
felicitous  illustration.  It  is  an  outward  symbol  of  an 
inward  reality.  It  is  not  the  creation  of  a  new  simi- 
larity, but  the  revelation  of  a  similarity  that  has  always 
existed ;  not  the  putting  into  nature  or  into  life  of  that 
which  was  not  formerly  in  them,  but  the  bringing-out 
from  them  of  that  which  they  have  always  contained, 
and  which  is  indeed  their  deepest  and  their  truest  signifi- 
cance. Trench  is  not  overstating  the  case,  therefore, 
when  he  says  of  the  Saviour's  parables,  that  "  their 
power  lies  in  the  harmony  unconsciously  felt  by  all 
men,  and  which  all  deeper  minds  have  delighted  to 
trace,  between  the  natural  and  spiritual  worlds,  so  that 
analogies  from  the  first  are  felt  to  be  something  more 
than  illustrations  happily  but  yet  arbitrarily  chosen. 
They  are  arguments,  and  may  be  alleged  as  witnesses ; 
the  world  of  nature  being  throughout  a  witness  for  the 
world  of  spirit,  proceeding  from  the  same  hand,  grow- 
ing out  of  the  same  root,  and  being  constituted  for  that 
very  end."^ 

1  Notes  on  the  Parables,  by  Archbishop  Trench,  pp.  12, 13. 


INTRODVCTOBY.  5 

Herein,  too,  lies  the  root  of  the  difference  between 
the  parable,  strictly  so  called,  and  the  fable.  No  doubt, 
as  has  been  often  pointed  out,  the  fable  finds  its  sphere 
in  the  lower  department  of  merely  worldly  prudence, 
while  that  of  the  parable  is  in  the  enforcement  of  the 
highest  spiritual  truths.  But  that  to  which  I  direct 
attention  more  particularly  now  is  the  fact  that  the 
author  of  the  fable  puts  into  nature  something  that 
is  not  originally  there,  in  order  that  he  may  draw  out 
again  the  lesson  which  he  designs  to  teach ;  while  the 
setter-forth  of  a  parable  relates  a  narrative  which  in  all 
its  parts  is  true  to  nature,  and  finds  in  that  nature, 
when  rightly  interpreted,  the  higher  principle  which  he 
seeks  to  enforce.  The  fabulist  does  violence  to  nature, 
by  transferring  human  motives  and  actions  to  trees  and 
animals,  in  order  that  he  may  make  them  the  mouth- 
pieces of  that  shrewdness  which  he  does  not  care  to 
utter  in  his  own  proper  personality.  Thus,  in  Jotham's 
fable  of  the  trees  choosing  a  king,i  he  attributes  the 
actions  of  human  beings  to  the  vine,  the  olive,  and 
tlie  fig-tree ;  and  the  lesson  which  he  brings  out  of  the 
whole  story  is  one  which  he  had  himself  first  put  into 
it.  In  a  parable,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  nothing 
contrary  to  the  truth  of  nature :  every  thing  is  in  char- 
acter ;  and  tlie  moral  is  not  one  which  has  been  thrust 
into  it  for  the  time  being  and  for  a  particular  purpose, 
but  one  which  has  all  along  been  in  that  aspect  of  human 
life,  and  that  process  of  nature,  and  which  waited  only 
for  the  eye  that  could  see  it,  and  the  voice  that  could 
reveal  it  to  the  world.  So  as  science  advances,  and 
history  rolls  on  in  its  course,  the  materials  for  parable 
are  increased;  and  those  who  keep  abreast  of  their 
times  may  find  ever-new  analogies  wherewith  to  attract 

1  Jiulj'.  ix.  8-20, 


^ 


6  TUE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

the  attention  of  their  fellows,  and  illustrate  to  them  the 
eternal  verities  of  the  gospel. 

But  observe :  to  do  all  this,  the  parable  must  be  true 
to  nature  and  to  life.  If  it  be  not,  then  it  is  no  proper 
parable ;  the  analogy  is  forced,  and  the  lesson  conveyed 
is  not  one  which  God  meant  to  teach,  but  only  one 
which  the  human  speaker  has  himself  devised.  This 
must  never  be  lost  sight  of;  and  yet,  at  the  same  time, 
it  must  never  be  misunderstood.  For  it  does  not  imply 
that  the  narrative  in  a  parable  must  be  the  history  of 
an  actual  occurrence.  It  may  or  it  may  not  be  so. 
The  essential  thing  is,  that,  whether  fact  or  fiction,  it 
shall  be  true.  It  may  indeed  seem  paradoxical  when  I 
speak  of  fiction  as  being  true  ;  but  the  proper  antithesis 
to  fiction  is  fact,  not  truth,  and  a  thing  may  be  true 
without  being  fact.  Thus,  to  take  a  modern  instance, 
we  may  find  mistakes  in  matters  of  fact  in  some  of  the 
historical  plays  of  Shakspeare ;  but  still  no  mere  chroni- 
cler of  facts  has  given  us  any  thing  like  such  a  truthful 
idea  of  the  life  of  the  periods  which  he  has  delineated, 
as  he  has  furnished  in  these  dramas.  So  the  story  of 
the  Prodigal  Son  may  have  been  a  history  of  literal  facts. 
There  is  nothing  in  it  that  renders  that  impossible. 
But  it  may  also  be,  as  I  believe  it  is,  a  fiction ;  and  as 
such  it  has  the  truth  of  an  ideal  wliich  corresponds  to 
many  different  reals.  Every  thing  in  it  is  to  the  life  ; 
and  as  each  person  reads  it,  he  may  have  some  case  in 
his  mind,  distinct  from  that  in  the  mind  of  every  other, 
to  which  the  description  exactly  answers.  Putting- 
together,  then,  the  different  things  which  we  have 
emphasized,  we  may  say  that  a  parable  is  the  narrative 
—  fictitious  or  otherwise  —  of  a  scene  in  human  life  or  a 
l^rocess  in  nature  ;  yet  true  in  its  representations  either 
of  the  one  or  of  the  other,  and  having  under  it  a  spirit- 


INTBODUCTORY.  7 

ual  lesson :  or,  to  repeat  the  little  girl's  definition,  it  is 
"  an  earthly  story  with  a  heavenly  meaning." 

II.  But  now  let  us  ask,  in  the  second  place,  why  the 
Lord  Jesus  used  parables  in  his  discourses.  And  to 
that  we  may  answer,  first  of  all,  that  he  employed  this  ,^ 
form  of  instruction  as  a  means  of  attracting  attention. 
Every  one  knows  how  the  interest  of  young  people  is 
awakened  and  sustained  by  the  telling  of  "a  story." 
We  can  all  remember  how  in  our  early  days  our  minds 
were  fascinated  and  our  imaginations  were  filled  by 
those  classics  of  the  nursery,  as  I  may  call  them,  which 
were  read  to  us  by  our  seniors,  and  which  we  eagerly 
received,  without  any  questioning  on  our  part  as  to 
their  truth,  or  any  consciousness,  either  in  the  reader  or 
the  hearers,  of  any  hidden  meaning  lurking  beneath  their 
incidents.  Bat  in  this  respect  we  are  all  only  children 
of  a  larger  growth,  as  is  made  abundantly  evident  by 
the  fact  that  when  a  public  speaker  descends  from 
abstract  reasoning  to  concrete  illustration,  and  clinches 
his  argument  by  a  pat  and  parallel  anecdote,  an  imme- 
diate hush  of  eager  interest  stills  his  audience  into  a 
breathless  silence,  which  is  broken  only  at  the  close  by 
the  outburst  of  irrepressible  applause.  Now,  knowing 
well  this  peculiarity  of  our  nature,  the  Lord  secin-ed 
the  attention  of  his  hearers  by  the  beautiful  parables 
which  he  introduced  into  his  discourses.  And  the 
effect  was  heightened  by  his  selection,  for  this  purpose, 
of  the  scenes,  incidents,  and  objects  with  which  men 
were  familiar  in  common  life.  He  never  introduced 
recondite  subjects,  or  went  out  of  the  region  with 
which  his  hearers  were  acquainted ;  but  he  lifted  up 
that  which  lay  at  his  hand,  making  it  magnetic  in  its 
attractiveness,  and  luminous  in  its  application.     This, 


8  THE  PAUABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

indeed,  was  one  of  tlie  reasons  of  his  popularity  as  a 
teacher.  The  sower  going  forth  to  soav  ;  the  fisherman 
casting  his  net  into  the  lake ;  the  woman  kneading  her 
dough,  or  sweeping  her  house  in  search  of  a  piece  of 
money  which  she  had  lost ;  the  growth  of  the  mustard- 
plant  from  a  tiny  seed;  the  shepherd  going  after  his 
sheep ;  the  father  receiving  back  his  long-lost  son ;  the 
details  and  incidents  of  a  marriage  procession  ;  the  hir- 
ing of  laborers  in  the  market-place,  —  all  were  turned 
by  him  to  profitable  account.  And  this  helps  to  explain 
how  it  came,  that,  with  a  Joseph  and  a  Nicodemus 
among  his  disciples,  it  was  also  true  that  "the  common 
people  heard  him  gladly ; "  for  here,  in  their  liking  for 
"  a  story  "  lying  in  the  sphere  of  daily  life,  "  the  rich  and 
the  poor  meet  together,"  and  both  alike  are  attracted 
by  the  spell  of  its  influence. 

But  another  reason  why  our  Lord  used  parables  in 
his  teaching  was  to  prevent  his  auditors  from  being 
repelled  by  a  too  sudden  revelation,  either  of  his  pur- 
pose or  of  liis  message.  His  hearers  were  largely  preju- 
diced against  the  truth  which  he  came  to  teach ;  and  by 
means  of  these  delightful  stories  he  secured  the  presen- 
tation of  it  to  their  minds  in  a  form  which,  for  the  time 
at  least,  disarmed  antagonism.  He  had  to  reveal  his 
truth  to  men  "as  they  were  able  to  bear  it,"  and  so 
he  gave  it  to  them  first  under  the  guise  of  parables. 
The  same  reason  which  underlies  the  fact  that  the  gos- 
pel dispensation  as  a  whole  was  preceded  by  the  Jew- 
ish—  which  with  its  types  and  shadows  was  just  one 
great  parable  —  is  to  be  found  at  the  heart  of  our  Sav- 
iour's employment  of  this  mode  of  instruction.  The 
race  had  to  be  prepared  for  the  fuller  revelation  wliich 
was  coming,  by  the  pictorial  representation  which  went 
before.     And  what  was  true  of  the  race  as  a  whole 


INTRODUCTORY.  9 

is  true  also  of  the  individual.  The  old  heathen  myth 
which  represented  that  the  sight  of  the  unveiled  image 
of  Truth,  at  Sais,  would  smite  a  man  into  death  or  into 
blindness,  has  its  full  interpretation  liere ;  and  parable 
was  the  veil  which  Jesus  put  over  the  face  of  truth,  to 
secure  its  safer  perception  by  those  who  listened  to  his 
words.  Had  he  spoken  plainly,  they  would  have  been 
largely  repelled ;  but  by  his  use  of  analogy  he  pre- 
pared the  way  for  their  ultimate  reception  of  his  teach- 
ing. Thus,  to  take  but  one  illustration  :  the  Jews  of 
his  day  had  set  their  hearts  upon  a  literal  restoration 
of  their  earthly  kingdom.  Indeed,  they  fully  expected 
that  as  the  fulfilment  of  their  ancient  oracles.  Now,  if 
Jesus,  at  the  beginning  of  his  ministry,  had  affirmed 
as  plainly  as  he  did  at  its  close,  to  Pilate,  who  had 
no  such  prejudice,  that  "  his  kingdom  was  not  of  this 
world,"  they  would  have  given  him  no  further  heed. 
But  in  his  wisdom  he  veiled  that  fact  beneath  the  many 
parables  which  tell  of  "  the  kingdom  of  heaven ; "  and 
in  that  form  it  was  preserved  for  his  genuine  disciples, 
while  it  was  hidden  for  the  time  from  his  antagonists. 
This  seems  to  me  to  be  the  true  explanation  of  the 
somewhat  difficult  passage  wherein  the  Lord  himself 
describes  his  purpose  in  the  use  of  parables,  to  his  fol- 
lowers. He  says,  "  Therefore  speak  I  to  them  in  para- 
bles, because  they  seeing  see  not,  and  hearing  they 
hear  not,  and  do  not  understand."  ^  Had  he  spoken 
plainly,  they  would  have  been  stirred  to  immediate 
antagonism,  and  the  crisis  of  the  cross  would  have  come 
before  his  personal  ministry  had  been  well  begun.  But 
by  the  adoption  of  the  parabolic  method  he  postponed 
the  inevitable  catastrophe,  and  so  secured  time  for  the 
education  of  his  apostles,  and  for  the  communication  to 

1  Matt.  xiii.  13. 


10  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR. 

them,  and  through  them  to  the  world  at  large,  of  the 
true  principles  of  his  gospel. 

But,  as  another  illustration  of  the  same  sort,  I  may 
refer  to  his  parables  of  reproof.  By  his  employment  of 
the  story,  he  made  the  severest  exposure  of  the  conduct 
of  his  antagonists,  before  they  were  aware  of  his  design  ; 
and  so  secured  that  they  were  put  to  confusion,  nay, 
oftentimes  convicted  out  of  their  own  mouths.  You 
remember  how  Nathan  did  with  David  in  the  matter  of 
the  Psahnist's  great  iniquity.^  Had  the  prophet  gone 
in  to  the  king,  and  directly  and  immediately  denounced 
his  guilt,  while  at  the  same  time  he  attempted  to  pro- 
nounce sentence  upon  him,  and  to  declare  that  punish- 
ment would  surely  follow,  it  is  at  least  questionable  if 
he  would  have  been  listened  to  at  all ;  and  it  is  certain, 
I  think,  that  he  would  have  provoked  the  monarch  to 
anger,  rather  than  led  him  to  repentance.  But  by  the 
telling  of  the  touching  story  of  the  ewe  lamb,  he  awoke 
the  better  nature  of  the  king:  and  when,  after  his  lord 
had  given  his  judgment  in  an  outburst  of  honest  indig- 
nation, he  turned  and  said,  "  Thou  art  the  man^''^  the 
effect  was  tremendous ;  for  in  the  ejaculation,  "  I  have 
sinned,''^  there  was  the  germ  of  the  entire  Fifty-first 
Psalm,  and  the  beginning  of  a  penitence  which  was  as 
sincere  as  the  transgression  had  been  aggravated. 

Now,  we  can  see  a  similar  purpose  in  some  of  our 
Lord's  parables ;  although  unhappily,  owing  to  the  hard- 
ened state  of  the  hearts  of  his  opponents,  they  were  not 
brought  to  a  similar  acknowledgment  of  their  guilt. 
Thus  in  the  story  of  the  wicked  husbandmen  (Matt, 
xxii.  33-46),  the  chief  priests  and  Pharisees  at  the  end, 
but  not  till  then,  perceived  that  he  had  spoken  of  them  ; 
and  it  is  recorded,  that  they  sought  to  lay  hands  on 

1  2  Sam.  xii.  1-7. 


INTRODUCTORY.  11 

him,  but  were  prevented  only  by  fear  of  the  multitude. 
Still  he  Iiad  secured  his  object ;  for  he  had  so  held  up 
tlie  mirror  before  them,  that  they  recognized  them- 
selves, and  were  self-condemned.  Thus  the  parable 
was  a  veil  which  both  revealed  and  concealed  the  truth. 
It-  was,  if  you  will  allow  me  to  coin  a  word,  an  inverba- 
tion  of  the  truth,  corresponding  in  some  sort  to  the 
incarnation  of  Deity  in  Christ  himself.  To  those  who 
had  the  spirit  to  discern,  the  outward  covering  brought 
the  truth  nearer,  even  as  the  incarnation  has  been, 
to  the  spiritually  minded,  the  clearest  revelation  of  God 
the  world  has  ever  seen  ;  but  to  those  who  lacked  that 
spirit,  there  was  nothing  but  the  story,  even  as,  to  the 
materialists  among  us,  there  is  nothing  but  mere 
humanity  in  the  person  of  the  Christ.  With  all  his 
usual  acuteness,  but  with  a  sublimity  that  is  somewhat 
unwonted  in  his  comments,  Matthew  Henry  has  said 
that  parable  was  "  the  cloud "  wherein  the  Great 
Teacher  "  descended."  ^  Yea,  a  cloud  luminous  to 
some,  yet  dark  to  others ;  the  enveilment,  but  also 
the  unveiling,  of  the  truth  to  men. 

Now,  if  this  view  of  the  matter  be  correct,  we  shall 
see  how  two  other  objects  were  served  by  this  use  of 
parables  by  our  Lord.  For  I  remark,  in  the  third  place,  \/ 
that  he  employed  them  to  stimulate  inquiry.  The  man 
who  saw  in  the  story  nothing  but  a  story,  would  turn 
away  from  it  as  trilling  and  unimportant ;  but  those  who 
had  the  insight  to  perceive  that  the  narrative  was  re- 
hearsed for  a  high  moral  and  spiritual  purpose,  would 
be  stirred  up  to  inquire  into  that,  and  would  be  re- 
warded by  the  discovery  of  its  hidden  meaning.  Thus 
we  learn,  that  after  the  Lord  had  related  the  story  of  the 
sower,  and  that  of  the  tares  and  the  wheat,  his  disciples 

1  Coiumcutary  ou  Matt.  xiii.  1-23. 


12  TUE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

came  to  him,  and  asked  an  explanation  of  his  words. 
To  that  he  responded  by  giving  the  interpretation  of 
the  parables ;  and  so  he  exemplified  the  meaning,  as  well 
as  the  truth,  of  his  own  words,  "Whosoever  hath,  to 
him  shall  be  given,  and  he  shall  have  more  abundance ; 
but  whosoever  hath  not,  from  him  shall  be  taken  away- 
even  that  he  hath."  ^ 

And  that  leads  directly  and  immediately  to  the  last 
purpose  which  the  Lord  had  in  view  in  his  employment 
\/  ]  of  this  method  of  discourse  ;  which  was,  to  test  the  char- 
I  acters  of  his  hearers.  Nothing  better  on  this  subject  has 
ever  been  written  than  the  following  suggestive  sentences 
by  Neander,  in  that  "  Life  of  Jesus  Christ,"  which  was 
the  first  of  the  answers  to  the  notorious  work  of  Strauss, 
and  which,  in  my  judgment,  is  still  —  with  some  draw- 
backs incidental  to  the  author's  theory  of  inspiration  — 
incomparably  the  best  of  all  the  works  under  that  title 
which  have  been  published  in  modern  times.  He  says, 
"  The  form  of  his  expressions,  whether  he  uttered  para- 
bles, proverbs,  maxims,  or  apparent  paradoxes,  was  in- 
tended to  spur  men's  minds  to  profounder  thought,  to 
awaken  the  divine  consciousness  within,  and  so  to  teach 
them  to  understand  that  which  at  first  served  only  as  a 
mental  stimulus.  It  was  designed  to  impress  indelibly 
upon  the  memory  of  his  hearers,  truths  perhaps  as  yet 
not  fully  intelligible,  but  which  would  grow  clear  as 
the  divine  life  was  formed  within  them,  and  become  an 
ever-increasing  source  of  spiritual  light.  His  doctrine 
was  not  to  be  propagated  as  a  lifeless  stock  of  tradition, 
but  to  be  received,  as  a  living  Spirit,  by  willing  minds, 
and  brought  out  into  full  consciousness,  according  to  its 
import,  by  free  spiritual  activity.  Its  individual  parts, 
too,  were  only  to  be  apprehended  in  their  first  propor- 

Matt.  Jiiii.  12. 


INTRODUCTORY.  13 

tions,  in  the  complete  connection  of  that  liigher  con- 
sciousness which  he  was  to  call  forth  in  man.  The  form 
of  teaching  which  repelled  the  stupid,  and  passed  un- 
heeded and  misunderstood  by  the  unhol)^,  roused  sus- 
ceptible minds  to  deeper  thought,  and  rewarded  their 
inquiries  by  the  discovery  of  ever-increasing  treasures. 
But  the  attainment  of  this  end  depended  on  the  suscep- 
tibility of  the  hearers.  So  far  as  they  hungered  for  true 
spiritual  food,  so  far  the  parable  stimulated  them  to 
deeper  thought,  and  so  far  only  it  revealed  new  riches. 
Men  with  whom  this  really  was  the  case  were  accus- 
tomed to  wait  until  the  throng  had  left  their  Master,  or, 
gathering  round  him  in  a  narrow  circle  in  some  retired 
spot,  to  seek  clearer  light  on  points  which  the  parable 
had  left  obscure.  The  scene  described  in  Mark  iv.  10 
shows  us  that  others  besides  the  twelve  apostlesvfQve,  named 
among  those  who  remained  behind  to  ask  him  questions 
after  the  crowd  had  dispersed.  Not  only  did  such  ques- 
tions afford  the  Saviour  an  opportunity  of  imparting  more 
thorough  instruction,  but  those  who  felt  constrained  to 
offer  them  were  thereby  drawn  into  closer  fellowship 
with  him.  He  became  better  acquainted  with  the  souls 
that  were  longing  for  salvation.  The  greater  number, 
however,  in  their  stupidity,  did  not  trouble  themselves 
to  penetrate  the  shell  in  order  to  reach  the  kernel. 
Yet  they  must  have  perceived  that  they  had  understood 
nothing ;  they  could  not  learn  separate  phrases  from 
Christ,  as  they  might  from  other  religious  teachers,  and 
think  they  comprehended  them,  when  they  did  not. 
And  so,  in  proportion  to  the  susceptibility  of  his  hearers, 
the  parables  of  Christ  revealed  sacred  things  to  some, 
and  veiled  them  from  others,  who  were  destined,  through 
their  own  fault,  to  remain  in  darkness.  Thus,  like  those 
'  hard   sayings,'  which  were  to  some  an   insupportable 


14  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

'offence,'  the  parables  served  to  sift  and  purge  the 
tlu'ong  of  Christ's  hearers."  ^  They  tested  character, 
while  they  symbolized  truth. 

III.  But  now  a  word  or  two  as  to  how  parables  are  to 
be  interpreted.  The  Lord  himself  has  given  us  a  pattern 
here,  and  in  his  expositions  of  the  parables  of  the  sower 
and  the  tares  he  has  shown  us  how  we  ought  to  pro- 

y  ceed.  Each  is  told  for  the  enforcement  of  one  main 
truth ;  and  to  that  attention  is  to  be  particularly  devoted, 
without  seeking  to  run  into  minute  details,  or  giving  a 
significance  to  every  little  thing  that  is  introduced. 
Now,  what  the  main  purpose  of  the  parable  is,  Ave  may 
in  general  discover  easily,  either  from  the  manner  in 
Avhicli  it  is  introduced,  or  from  the  circumstances  in 
connection  with  which  it  was  delivered.  Not  seldom, 
indeed,  the  purpose  is  indicated  in  the  very  first  words, 
as  in  the  numerous  parables  beginning  with  "  Tlie  king- 
dom of  heaven  is  like ; "  while  occasionally  we  have  it 
definitely  announced,  as  in  the  words  prefixed  to  that  of 
the  Pharisee  and  the  publican :  "  He  spake  this  parable 
unto  certain  which  trusted  in  themselves  that  they  were 
righteous,  and  despised  others."  ^  Sometimes,  too,  as  in 
the  case  of  -that  of  the  Good  Samaritan,  the  j^arable  is 
given  as  an  answer  to  the  question  either  of  a  caviller  or 
of  an  inquirer ;  and  then  there  can  be  little  hesitation  as 
to  its  meaning.  When  we  have  found  out,  then,  what  the 
main  drift  and  purpose  is,  we  have  the  key  for  the  open- 
ing-up  of  its  significance.  Still,  just  as,  in  the  interpre- 
tation of  the  symbolism  of  the  Jewish  tabernacle,  we  run 

w  into  trifling  and  conceit  when  we  attempt  to  give  a  spirit- 
ual significance  to  every  pillar,  and  curtain,  and  coupling, 

1  Ncander's  Life  of  Christ,  Bolm's  edition,  pp.  lOG,  107. 

2  Luke  xviii.  'J. 


INTRODUCTORY.  15 

and  pin  ;  so  we  miss  tlie  full  force  of  a  parable  when  we 
try  to  find  a  meaning  in  every  fold  of  its  drapery.  In 
such  a  case,  we  divide  the  river  of  its  teaching  into  so 
many  little  branches  that  it  finally  disappears,  like  one 
of  those  streams  which  flow  throiigli  many  channels 
into  the  Australian  desert,  and  lose  themselves  in  the 
sand.  Thus,  in  regard  to  the  parable  of  the  Good' 
Samaritan,  which  Christ  himself  interpreted  by  saying, 
"  Go  and  do  thou  likewise,"  we  have  had  such  laborious 
trifling  as  this :  The  man  who  fell  among  thieves  was 
Adam  ;  the  thieves  were  the  Devil  and  his  angels ;  the 
priest  and  Levite  were  the  Mosaic  dispensation  ;  the 
Good  Samaritan  was  Christ  himself ;  the  oil  and  the  wine 
were  the  comforts  and  blessings  of  the  gospel ;  the  beast 
on  which  he  rode  was  the  humanity  of  Christ;  the  set- 
ting of  the  wounded  man  thereon  was  his  vicarious 
salvation ;  the  inn  was  the  Church ;  and  the  two  pence, 
the  life  that  now  is,  and  the  life  that  is  to  come.  But 
where,  meanwhile,  is  the  great  lesson  of  practical  benefi- 
cence which  the  Lord  designed  to  teach?  or  how,  from 
such  a  multitude  of  conceits,  will  one  deduce  an  answer 
to  the  question,  "  Who  is  my  neighbor  ?  " 

This  may  serve  as  a  beacon  of  warning,  and  keep  us 
from  striking  against  the  rock  of  over-minuteness.  But, 
while  we  guard  against  that  danger,  let  us  not  forget  the 
thought  which  has  been  already  before  us;  namely,  that 
the  impression  produced  on  us,  and  the  instruction  con- 
veyed to  us,  by  the  parables,"  depend  on  our  own  spiritual 
character  and  susceptibility.  We  must  bring  something 
to  them  before  we  can  get  any  thing  out  of  them.  We 
must  have  the  docile  spirit  of  disciples,  a  willingness  to 
hear,  an  eagerness  to  learn,  and  a  readiness  to  accept 
what  comes  to  us  from  the  Great  Teacher's  lips ;  and  for 
those  qualities  we  must  apply  to  Ilim  from  whom  all 


16  THE  r ARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

good  counsels  flow.  Let  us  first,  and  before  all  things 
else,  then,  seek  after  these  ;  and,  having  these,  our  study 
will  be  at  once  instructive,  stimulating,  and  helpful  to 
us  in  the  prosecution  of  the  Christian  life. 

Different  classifications  of  the  Saviour's  parables  have 
been  suggested  by  different  authors ;  and  there  are,  un- 
doubtedly, some  advantages  to  be  derived  from  the  fol- 
lowing of  such  a  course  as  that  which  has  been  taken  by 
Bruce  and  Goebel.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  adoption 
of  such  a  method  is  apt  to  make  us  lose  sight  of  the  very 
marked  difference  in  structure  and  in  theme  between  the 
parables  recorded  by  Matthew,  and  those  preserved  by 
Luke ;  and  we  may  best  discover  the  "  personal  equa- 
tion "  of  the  Evangelists  by  taking  them  in  the  order  in 
which  we  find  them  in  the  Gospels,  while,  at  the  same 
time,  we  shall  secure  variety  of  topic,  and  so  conserve 
our  interest  in  the  series  from  first  to  last.  Without 
attempting  any  systematic  classification  of  the  para- 
bles, therefore,  we  shall  examine  them  in  the  order  in 
which  we  come  upon  them  in  the  narratives  of  the 
Evangelists. 


THE  FOUR  KINDS  OF  SOIL.  17 


II. 

THE   FOUR    KINDS    OF   SOIL. 

(Matt.  xni.  1-9,  18-23.) 

This  thirteenth  chapter  of  Matthew's  Gospel  contains 
seven  parables,  all  of  which,  apparently,  were  spoken  on 
the  same  occasion,  and  each  of  which  was  designed  to 
give  distinctness  to  one  special  aspect  of  the  same  sub- 
ject. That  subject  is  "the  kingdom  of  heaven,"  by 
Avhich  is  meant,  not  the  glorified  state  of  the  luture  life, 
but  that  presently  existing  spiritual  community  of  which 
Christ  is  the  head,  and  which  is  composed  of  those  whose 
lioarts  and  lives  are  subject  to  him  as  their  sovereign. 
The  theme  is  thus  the  same  as  that  which  is  dealt  with 
in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  and  the  discourse  in  which 
these  parables  are  found  may  almost  be  regarded  as  an 
illustrative  api)endix  to  that  matchless  address.  In  the 
Sermon,  the  Saviour  treats  the  subject  abstractly  and 
impersonally  :  in  the  parables,  he  uses  familiar  figures  for 
its  illustration,  and  has  special  reference  to  the  different 
effects  produced  by  its  presentation,  on  men  of  different 
dispositions.  In  the  Sermon,  he  is  mainly  retrospective, 
and  sets  forth  the  points  of  contrast  between  the  Mosaic 
S3'stem,  and  that  which  lie  came  to  introduce :  in  the 
])arables,  he  is  almost  entirel}^  prospective,  and  unfolds 
the  manner  of  the  progress  of  liis  kingdom,  and  the  na- 
ture of  its  consummation.  In  the  Sermon,  he  laj'sdown 
jirinciplcs,  and  proclaims  laws:  in  the  parables,  he  gives 


18  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

prominence  to  individual  cases  and  peculiar  features. 
But  both  have  an  important  bearing  on  the  one  great 
topic ;  and,  to  have  a  right  understanding  of  that  as  a 
whole,  both  must  be  studied  together. 

This  being  the  case,  it  is  not  wonderful  that  certain 
exjiositors  have  imagined  that  they  saw  a  parallelism 
between  the  beatitudes  of  the  Sermon  and  the  parables 
of  this  chapiter;  but  their  attempts  to  establish  tliis 
position  in  detail  are  as  fanciful  as  those  which  others 
have  made  to  prove  that  there  is  a  similar  relation  be- 
tween these  seven  parables,  and  the  epistles  to  the  seven 
churches  of  Asia,  in  the  beginning  of  the  Book  of  Reve- 
lation. There  is  a  certain  fascination,  for  some  minds,  in 
the  tracing  of  these  minute  resemblances  between  differ- 
ent portions  of  the  Scriptures  ;  but  all  such  attempts  are 
more  or  less  artificial,  and  in  following  them  out  we  may 
miss  the  great  lessons  which  the  parables  were  meant 
to  enforce.  Accordingly  I  shall  not  allow  myself  to  be 
diverted  from  my  main  purpose  by  tlie  consideration 
of  any  such  similarities,  but  content  mj^self  with  the 
general  statement  that  these  parables  were  meant  to  set 
before  us  the  origin,  hinderances,  progress,  preciousness, 
and  consummation  of  the  kingdom  of  God  among  men, 
and  that  they  really  accomplish  that  object  in  such  a 
way  as  to  be  clearly  intelligible  and  strikingly  impres- 
sive to  every  attentive  reader. 

But,  Avhile  we  rule  out  fancies,  it  is  our  duty  Avith  all 
reverence  to  take  note  of  facts.  Now,  the  careful  stu- 
dent will  be  struck  with  two  things  about  these  para- 
bles, lie  will  not  fail  to  observe,  in  the  first  place,  that 
while  those  of  the  sower,  —  so  called,. —  the  tares,  the 
mustard-seed,  and  the  leaven,  were  spoken  to  the  people 
promiscuously,  those  of  the  hidden  treasure,  the  pearl 
of  great  price,  and  the  drag-net,  were  given  to  the  dis- 


THE  FOUR  KINDS  OF  SOIL.  19 

ciples  alone.  And  it  is,  perhaps,  a  fair  inference  from 
tliat  fact,  to  say,  tliat,  wliile  the  former  four  deal  with 
those  aspects  of  the  kingdom  which  are  j^ublic  and 
patent  to  all,  tlie  latter  three  are  concerned  with  the 
deeper  things  which  are  matter  of  i)ersonal  history,  and 
wliich  are  fully  appreciated  only  by  those  who  become 
subjects  of  the  kingdom.  The  first  four  may  be  verified 
by  observation,  but  the  last  three  have  to  be  interpreted 
by  experience. 

Again,  it  will  be  apparent  to  the  attentive  reader,  that 
there  is  a  certain  beauty  of  arrangement  in  the  order 
of  these  parables.  After  that  of  the  four  sorts  of  soil, 
which  stands  alone  as  illustrating  the  general  effects 
produced  by  the  preaching  of  the  gospel  anywhere,  the 
other  six  come  in  pairs;  and  in  tliese  three  couplets 
each  member  is  the  complement  and  companion  of  the 
other.  Thus  the  parables  of  the  tares  and  of  the  drag- 
net illustrate  the  same  thing ;  but  the  one  gives  promi- 
nence to  the  origin  of  the  mixture  of  evil  with  the  good 
in  the  kingdom,  while  the  other  directs  attention  to  the 
means  by  which  that  state  of  things  is  to  be  brought  to 
an  end.  Again,  those  of  the  hidden  treasure,  and  the 
pearl  of  great  price,  do  both  illustrate  the  acceptance 
of  the  gospel  by  the  individual  believer ;  but  the  one 
sets  before  us  the  case  of  a  man  finding  what  he  was 
not,  at  the  moment,  looking  for,  while  the  other  depicts 
the  success  of  the  earnest  seeker.  Once  more,  those  of 
the  mustard-seed  and  the  leaven  both  illustrate  the 
progress  of  the  gospel  in  the  world  ;  but,  while  the  one 
represents  its  outward  and  visible  manifestation,  the 
other  suggests  its  hidden  and  mysterious  operation. 

These  general  statements  are  all  tliat  is  required  to 
point  out  the  drift  of  the  parables  in  this  chapter,  and 
the  relation  of  any  one  of  them  to  all  the  rest,  so  that 


20  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR. 

we  may  now  proceed  to  the  more  particular  considera- 
tion of  that  of  the  four  kinds  of  ground. 

We  need  not  spend  much  time  on  the  mere  externals 
of  the  story.  It  was  springtime  by  the  Lake  of  Galilee, 
and  a  crowd  of  eager  listeners  were  pressing  round  the 
Great  Teacher  as  he  sat  upon  the  shore.  To  escape 
the  crush,  he  stepped  into  a  boat,  which  he  caused  to  be 
pushed  out  a  few  yards  ;  and  from  that  novel  pulpit  he 
spoke  to  the  multitudes  that  lined  the  beach.  They 
were  numerous,  and  apparently  very  enthusiastic  just 
then ;  but  they  were  very  far  from  being  permanently 
attached  to  his  cause.  A  winnowing  time  was  coming, 
and  in  a  few  days  the  great  majority  of  them  would  "  go 
back,  and  walk  no  more  with  him."  The  thought  was 
fraught  with  solemnity  to  himself,  and  therefore  it  gave 
shape  and  purpose  to  his  discourse.  Why  was  that  crowd 
so  soon  to  melt  away?  Would  it  not  be  well  to  look  at 
that  question  now,  before  their  defection  occurred,  so 
that,  if  possible,  some  among  them  might  be  shaken  up 
to  such  seriousness  as  should  prevent  their  withdrawal ; 
while  his  permanent  followers  might,  at  the  same  time, 
be  prepared  for  what  might  otherwise  be  most  discour- 
aging? These  were,  as  I  believe,  the  motives  which 
led  the  Saviour  to  tell  this  simple  but  suggestive  story. 

There  is  nothing  in  its  literal  aspect  that  is  at  all 
difficult  to  apprehend.  The  sower  going  forth  to  sow 
is  a  familiar  figure  in  all  agricultural  districts ;  and  in 
most  places,  there  is  the  same  difference  in  the  soils  on 
which  the  seed  falls  as  we  find  here  described.  The 
"  wayside,"  however,  is  not  the  margin  of  the  highway 
with  which  we  are  so  well  acquainted,  but  rather  the 
footpath  through  the  field,  like  that  on  which  the  Lord 
and  his  disciples  walked  when  the  latter  plucked  the 


THE  FOUR  KINDS  OF  SOIL.  21 

ears  of  corn.  The  seed  tliat  fell  by  the  wayside,  there- 
fore, is  not  that  which  incidentally  dropped  from  the 
sower  as  he  was  going  to  the  field,  but  rather  that 
which  inevitably  fell  on  the  hard  path  through  the  field 
when  he  was  passing  over  it  at  his  proper  work.  He 
could  not  so  nicely  adjust  his  "  cast,"  as  that  nothing 
should  fall  on  the  walk  which  many  feet  had  hardened, 
and  his  plough  had  left  unturned.  The  "stony  ground" 
was  not  soil  mixed  with  stones,  but  rather  a  thin  layer 
of  earth  on  the  top  of  underlying  rock.  The  thorny 
ground  was  not  soil  in  which  thorns  were  already 
grown  rank  and  strong,  but  rather  ground  which  had 
not  been  thoroughly  "  cleaned,"  as  the  farmer  phrases 
it,  and  in  which  the  seeds  of  thorns  were  present  in 
abundance.  The  good  soil  was  that  which  was  neither 
trodden  into  hardness,  nor  lying  in  shallowness  on  the 
top  of  rocks,  nor  full  of  the  roots  of  weeds  that  had  not 
been  carefully  removed ;  but  ground  which  had  been 
well  prepared  for  the  reception  of  the  seed.  And  the 
results  corresponded  in  each  case  to  the  character  of 
the  soil.  That  which  fell  on  the  footpath  never  grew 
at  all.  Indeed,  it  never  got  into  the  soil  at  all,  but 
became  the  food  of  birds.  That  which  fell  on  the  rocky 
soil  grew  rapidly  for  a  season,  and  then  withered  awa}' ; 
that  which  fell  on  the  ground  in  which  the  roots  of 
thorns  existed  grew,  but  with  difficulty,  for  the  thorns 
choked  it,  and  prevented  it  from  coming  to  maturity  ; 
while  even  in  the  good  soil  there  were  degrees  of  fertil- 
ity, and  in  some  places  the  crop  was  larger  than  in 
others.  Here,  then,  is  the  main  thought  of  the  para- 
ble in  its  literal  sense :  the  groivth  of  the  seed  depends 
always  on  the  quality  of  the  soil.  The  stress  of  the 
story  lies  not  on  the  character  of  the  sower,  or  even  on 
the  quality  of  the  seed,  —  though  that  must  not  be  lost 


22  THE  PABABLES  OF  OUB  SAVIOUB. 

sight  of, — but  on  the  nature  of  the  soil.  The  crop 
depends  ujion  the  character  of  the  ground.  That  is  a 
universal  natural  law.  What  is  here  described  may 
never  have  happened  literally,  in  all  its  incidents,  in 
a  single  case  ;  but  always  and  everywhere  the  law  of 
which  these  incidents  are  illustrations  holds  good.  The 
growth  of  the  seed  depends  on  the  nature  of  the  soil. 
I  emphasize  that  as  the  one  great  thought  of  the  para- 
ble, because,  naming  it  as  we  do,  the  parable  of  the 
sower,  though  we  are  following  therein  the  example  of 
the  narrative  itself,  we  are  apt  to  imagine  that  we  must 
look  for  its  significance  in  something  about  the  sower, 
rather  than  in  the  differences  in  the  ground.  The  Ger- 
mans call  it  the  parable  of  "the  four  sorts  of  soil; "  and 
perhaps  we  should  do  well  to  follow  their  example,  for 
by  so  denominating  it  we  should  bring  into  prominence 
the  particular  department  in  which  its  lesson  lies. 

What,  then,  is  that  lesson?  The  Saviour  has  given 
us  the  answer  in  his  own  interpretation  of  the  story. 
The  seed  is  the  word  of  God,  or  the  word  of  the  king- 
dom ;  and  the  soil  is  human  hearts :  so  that,  reduced 
to  a  general  law,  the  teaching  of  the  parable  is,  that  the 
results  of  the  hearing  of  the  gospel  always  and  every- 
where depend  on  the  condition  of  heart  of  those  to 
whom  it  is  addressed.  The  character  of  the  hearer  de- 
termines the  effect  of  the  word  upon  him.  That  which 
a  man  takes  from  the  word  depends  on  what  he  first 
brings  to  the  word.  This  is  the  one  lesson  of  the 
parable,  and  it  is  illustrated  by  four  sorts  of  examples. 
Elsewhere  in  the  Scriptures,  attention  is  drawn  very 
strongly  to  the  character  of  the  preacher,  and  to  the 
nature  of  the  instruction  which  he  communicates ;  but 
here  the  emphasis  is  laid  on  the  character  of  the  hearer, 
and  the  whole  teaching  of  the  parable  is  concentrated 


Tilt:  FOUR  KINDS  OF  SOIL.  23 

into  the  command  of  the  Lord  with  which,  by  Lnke, 
the  parable  is  combined,  "  Ihke  heed^  therefore,  how  ye 
hcary  ^ 

Now,  as  it  seems  to  me,  this  is  a  lesson  wliich  the  men 
of  our  generation  need  very  much  to  learn.  For  while, 
in  the  broadest  and  highest  sense,  the  sower  here  is  the 
greatest  of  all  preachers,  even  the  Lord  Jesus  himself, 
and  the  field  is  the  world,  yet  the  same  great  law  which 
is  here  exemplified  holds  of  every  preacher  of  the  gos- 
pel, and  of  every  company  of  hearers  to  whom  the 
gospel  message  is  proclaimed.  It  is  just  as  true  hero 
and  now  as  it  was  when  the  Saviour  sat,  that  day,  in 
the  boat  on  the  Lake  of  Galilee,  that  the  effects  of  the 
preaching  of  the  gospel  depend  on  the  characters  of 
the  hearers.  But  that  is  an  aspect  of  the  matter  which 
is  too  largely  lost  sight  of  in  this  generation.  For, 
if  the  services  of  the  sanctuary  are  uninteresting  or  un- 
edifying,  the  blame  is  too  generally  and  too  exclusively 
laid  upon  the  preacher,  and  little  or  nothing  is  either 
said  or  thought  about  the  dispositions  of  the  hearers.  I 
do  not  wish  to  say,  of  course,  that  no  responsibility  rests 
upon  the  preacher.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  his  duty  to 
adapt  the  presentation  of  the  truth  to  the  circumstances 
and  necessities  of  those  who  wait  upon  his  ministrations, 
and  to  take  all  proper  means  for  commending  it  to  the 
acceptance  of  his  fellow-men ;  but  it  ought  not  to  be 
forgotten,  that  a  corresponding  obligation  rests  on  them, 
and  that  it  is  their  duty  to  cultivate  spiritual  susceptibil- 
ity, so  that  they  maybe  interested  and  profited  by  what 
they  hear.  Criticism  of  the  pulpit  is  very  common,  and 
not  always  very  wise  ;  but  criticism  of  the  pews  is  rarely, 
if  ever,  heard :  and  while  many  lectureships  have  been 
founded  in  our  theological  seminaries  of  late  years,  for 

1  Luke  viii.  IS. 


24  TTnS  P  An  ABLE  S   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

the  treatment  of  the  best  methods  of  j)reaching,  it  might 
not  be  amiss  to  have  some  similar  means  of  bringing 
before  the  jjeople  generally  some  important  home  truths 
on  the  best  way  of  cultivating  the  habit  of  profitable 
hearing.  It  is  well  that  our  students  should  be  in- 
structed  liow  to  preach,  but  it  is  equally  important  that 
the  people  should  be  taught  how  to  hear ;  for  if  it  be 
true,  as  is  sometimes  cynically  said,  that  good  preaching 
is  one  of  the  lost  arts,  it  is  to  be  feared  that  good  hear- 
ing also  has  too  largely  disappeared;  and,  wherever  the 
fault  may  have  begun,  the  two  act  and  re-act  on  each 
other.  A  good  hearer  jnakes  a  lively  preacher,  just  as 
really  as  a  poor  preacher  makes  a  dull  hearer ;  and 
eloquence  is  not  all  in  the  speaker.  To  use  Mr.  Glad- 
stone's illustration,  he  gets  from  his  hearers  in  vapor 
that  which  he  returns  to  them  in  flood,  and  a  receptive 
and  responsive  audience  adds  fervor  and  intensity  to  his 
utterance.  Eloquent  hearing,  therefore,  is  absolutely 
indispensable  to  effective  preaching ;  and  so  it  is  quite 
as  necessary  that  listeners  should  be  taught  to  hear,  as 
it  is  that  preachers  should  be  taught  what  and  how  to 
speak. 

Now,  it  is  just  here  that  the  lessons  of  this  parable 
are  in  place;  and,  when  we  come  to  examine,  we  shall 
find  that  they  range  themselves  under  two  heads,  —  the 
negative  and  the  positive ;  or,  to  put  it  in  another  way, 
the  things  to  be  guarded  against,  and  the  things  to  be 
cultivated,  in  connection  with  the  hearing  of  the  gospel. 

I.  1.  Taking,  then,  first,  the  things  to  be  guarded 
against,  we  find  foremost  among  these  the  danger  of  pre- 
venting the  truth  from  getting  any  entrance  into  the  soul 
at  all.  The  seed  that  fell  upon  the  pathway  lay  on  the 
outside  of  the  soil.   The  ground  had  been  so  hardened  by 


THE  FOUR   KINDS   OF  SOIL.  25 

the  tread  of  many  feet,  tliat  tlie  grain  could  not  get  into  it, 
and  it  remained  ungerminating  and  exposed  until  the 
birds  devoured  it.  kjo,  sometimes,  the  soul  of  the  hearer 
has  been  indurated  and  made  impenetrable  to  the  truth 
by  the  traffic  over  it  of  many  different  things.  What 
these  are,  it  might  be  diificult  to  enumerate  ;  but  a  sam- 
ple or  two  will  nuike  good  our  statement.  One  of  them, 
strangely  enough,  may  be  the  constant  hearing  of  the 
truth  itself,  as  a  mere  religious  form.  The  soul  may  be 
sermon-hardened,  as  well  as  sin-hardened.  One  may  get 
so  into  the  habit  of  having  the  verities  of  the  gospel  pre- 
sented to  him,  and  resisted  by  him,  that  by  and  by  he 
takes  no  note  whatever  of  what  is  sidd  by  the  preacher, 
and  it  falls  on  the  outside  of  him,  like  rain  upon  a  rock, 
or  snow  upon  a  roof.  Tliere  is  little  danger  of  this,  per- 
haps, in  an  age  en-  in  a  place  in  which  gospel  privileges 
are  rare,  but  it  becomes  very  real  and  insidious  in  daja 
like  our  own,  when  these  blessings  are  so  commonly  and 
so  regularly  enjoyed ;  and  there  are  too  many  in  all 
our  congregations  like  Tennyson's  "  Northern  Farmer  " 
of  the  old  school,  who  said  about  the  parson,  — 

"  And  I  always  came  to  his  church,  before  my  Sally  were  dead, 
And  heard  him  a-biuuming  away  like  a  buzzard-clock   over  my 

head  ; 
And  I  never  knew  what  he  meant,  but  I  thought  he  had  some-        j 

(liiiiLj  to  say,  J 

And  1  thought  he  said  what  he  ought  to  have  said,  and  I  came    / 

away." 

Tliis  is  a  very  serious  peril,  and  has  to  be  strenuously 
looked  after,  especially  by  those  who  have  from  their 
early  years  been  constant  attendants  on  the  sanctuary. 
The  preacher  may  do  much  to  counteract  it,  indeed,  by 
cultivating  fresh  methods  of  presenting  and  enforcing 


26  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

the  truth,  and  by  abjuring  all  stereotyped  phraseology 
in  his  discourses ;  but  the  hearer,  also,  must  use  means 
to  neutralize  it,  and  should  seek  to  stir  up  his  attention 
when  he  enters  the  place  of  worship,  by  pausing  a  little 
to  ask  himself  why  he  is  there,  and  to  lift  up  his  heart 
in  prayer  to  God,  for  the  open  ear  to  hear,  and  the  open 
heart  to  receive,  the  message  which  his  Lord  has,  in  his 
providence,  prepared  for  him. 

,/  But  another  thing  which  makes  a  foot-walk  over  the 
soul  is  an  evil  habit.  Ah !  how  many  men's  hearts  have 
become  thoroughfares  for  sins,  which  have  trafficked  to 
and  fro  over  them,  until  they  have  become  as  hard  as 
the  pavements  of  our  streets,  and  the  truth  has  no  more 
chance  of  finding  an  entrance  into  them  than  corn 
would  have  to  grow  upon  an  asphaltic  roadway !    Thiidc 

l/of  Judas  in  this  regard,  and  you  have  a  concrete  in- 
stance of  the  sort  which  I  would  describe.  How  ten- 
derly, and  yet  how  faithfully,  the  Lord  spoke  to  him  on 
the  night  of  the  betrayal !  One  would  have  thought 
that  he  must  have  been  moved.  But  no :  the  sin  of 
covetousness,  the  habit  of  dishonesty,  had  so  overcrusted 
his  heart,-  that  the  Master's  words  found  no  entrance ; 
and  "  he  went  out,"  cold  and  callous,  to  do  his  perfidious 
deed.  So,  many  in  our  modern  churches  have  let  de- 
falcation, or  secret  sin,  or  liabitual  self-indulgence,  freeze 
over  their  spirits  with  such  a  hard  covering  of  icy 
callousness,  that  the  truth  wliicli  otherwise  would  have 
descended  to  the  very  depths  of  their  being,  lies  all 
frosted  and  uncared-for  on  the  surface.  Then  the  natu- 
ral result  follows ;  for  the  casual  talk  of  otliers  like 
themselves  as  they  retire  from  the  house  of  God,  on 
topics  of  frivolous  or  even  worse  description,  takes  all 
remembrance  of  it  away,  and  they  get  no  good  from  the 
service.     O    my  friends,   take   good   heed   here !     The 


TUE  FOUR  KINDS   OF  SOIL.  27 

habits  of  the  week  will  either  open  ot  stop  the  ears  on 
the  Lord's  Day ;  and  if  you  would  be  good  hearers  of 
the  word,  you  must  also  be  faithful  doers  of  the  same. 

2.  But  a  second  danger  to  be  avoided  is  that  of  shal- 
low imjjulsiveness.  The  seed  which  fell  on  the  soil 
which  lay  in  a  thin  layer  on  the  top  of  the  rock  sprang 
up  at  once ;  but  it  had  no  permanent  result,  for  when 
the  sun  was  up  it  withered  because  it  had  no  depth  of 
earth.  So  the  man  of  shallow  nature  makes  a  great  i^ 
show  at  first.  He  is  all  enthusiasm.  He  "  never  heard 
such  a  sermon  in  all  his  life."  He  seems  greatly  moved, 
and  for  a  time  it  looks  as  if  he  were  really  converted ; 
but  it  does  not  last.  It  is  but  an  ague-fever,  which  is 
succeeded  by  a  freezing  chill;  and  by  and  by  some  new 
excitement  follows,  to  give  place  in  its  turn  to  another 
alternation  into  cold  neglect.  He  lacks  depth  of  char- 
acter, for  he  has  nothing  but  rock  beneath  the  surface. 
He  seems  to  have  much  feeling,  indeed,  and  his  religion 
is  all  emotional ;  but,  in  reality,  he  has  no  proper  feel- 
ing. It  is  all  superficial.  That  which  is  only  feeling, 
will  not  even  be  feeling  long.  For,  as  Robertson  has 
profoundly  remarked,  "  the  superficial  character  is  con- 
nected with  the  hard  heart."  ^  Violent  emotion  is  a  sign 
of  shallowness,  and  never  lasts.  ■  But  the  tender  heart 
disposes  to  moral  thoughtfulness  ;  and,  where  that  is, 
the  feeling  is  permanent.  So  the  heart  must  be  kept 
from  rockiness  if  the  word  heard  is  to  go  deep  down 
into  it,  and  remain  rooted  there :  otherwise  the  first  dif- 
ficulty will  drive  all  sentiment  away,  —  even  as  Pliable 
was  daunted,  and  turned  back,  at  the  sight  of  the 
Slough  of  Despond. 

But  you  ask  how  all  this  is  to  be  helped,  if  the  defect 
be  in  character?  and  though  that  is  not  treated  of  in 
the  parable  at  all,  for  it  confines  itself  rigidly  to  one 


28  THE  r ARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

theme,  we  yet  may  indicate  the  direction  in  which  the 
jV  remedy  is  to  be  sought.  The  Lord  himself,  indeed,  has 
elsewhere  done  it  to  our  hand,  when  he  says,^  "  Whoso- 
ever doth  not  bear  his  cross,  and  come  after  me,  cannot 
be  my  disci])le.  For  which  of  you,  intending  to  build  a 
tower,  sitteth  not  down  first  and  counteth  the  cost, 
whether  he  have  sufficient  to  finish  it?  Lest  haply, 
after  he  hath  laid  the  foundation,  and  is  not  able  to 
finish  it,  all  that  behold  it  begin  to  mock  him,  saying, 
This  man  began  to  build,  and  was  not  able  to  finish. 
Or  what  king,  going  to  make  war  against  another  king, 
sitteth  not  down  first,  and  consulteth  whether  he  be 
able  with  ten  thousand  to  meet  him  that  cometh  against 
him  with  twenty  thousand?  or  else,  while  he  is  yet  a 
great  way  off,  he  sendeth  an  ambassage,  and  desireth 
conditions  of  peace.  So  likewise,  whosoever  he  be  of 
you  that  forsaketh  not  all  that  he  hath,  cannot  be  my 
disciple."  And  we  have  an  instance  of  this  class  in  him 
who  said,  "  Lord,  I  will  follow  thee  whithersoever  thou 
gocst ;  "  to  whom  the  Master  made  reply,  "•  Foxes  have 
lioles,  and  birds  of  the  air  have  nests ;  but  the  Son  of 
man  hath  not  where  to  lay  his  head  ;  "  as  also  to  some 
degree  in  Peter,  who  alleged  that  though  all  men  should 
deny  Christ,  yet  he  never  would,  and  who  was  found 
at  length  doing  the  very  thing  Avliich  he  so  strongly 
reprobated.  Now,  the  fault  in  all  this  lies  in  a  lack 
of  thoughtfulness,  or  a  neglecting  to  "  count  the  cost." 
The  man  of  depth  looks  before  he  leaps.  He  will  not 
commit  himself  until  he  has  carefully  examined  all  that 
is  involved ;  but  when  he  does  thus  commit  himself,  he 
does  so  irrevocably.  He  who  signs  a  document  without 
reading  it  will  be  very  likely  to  repudiate  it  when  any 
trouble  comes  of  it;  but  the  man  who  knew  what  he 

1  Luke  xiv.  27-33. 


THE  FOUR   KINDS   OF  SOIL.  29 

was  doing  wlien  he  appended  liis  name  to  it,  if  he  be  a 
true  man,  will  stand  to  his  bond  at  all  hazards.  Now, 
the  merely  impulsive,  shallow,  flippant  hearer  acts 
without  deliberation,  signs  his  bond  without  reading  it, 
and  is  therefore  easily  discouraged.  When  he  is  called 
to  suffer  any  thing  unpleasant  for  his  confession,  he 
backs  down.  He  had  not  calculated  on  such  a  contin- 
gency, lie  enlisted  only  for  the  review,  and  not  for  the 
battle;  and  so,  on  tlie  fust  alarm  of  war,  he  disa})i)cars 
from  the  ranks.  He  did  not  stop  to  consider  all  that 
his  enlistment  involved  ;  he  was  allured  only  by  the 
uniform,  and  the  gay  accessories  of  military  life :  but, 
when  it  came  to  fighting,  he  deserted.  Ah  !  but  the 
Christian  lias  to  bear  his  cross  ;  and  he  who  understands 
what  that  means,  when  he  takes  his  place  among  Christ's 
disciples,  is  a  disciple  until  death.  With  that  before 
him,  he  will  be  too  thoughtful  to  be  impulsive ;  for  the 
very  depth  of  his  nature  will  keep  him  from  demonstra- 
tiveness.  IIow  apt  we  are,  in  the  light  of  these  facts, 
to  misjudge  others !  The  enthusiastic  convert  is  often 
preferred  to  the  calm  and  apparently  unimpassioned 
disciple.  The  growth  in  the  one  seems  so  much  more 
rapid  than  in  the  other,  that  he  is  put  far  above  him. 
But  when  affliction  or  persecution  aiises,  what  a  revela- 
tion it  makes !  for  then  the  enthusiasm  of  the  one  goes 
out,  and  that  of  the  other  comes  out.  That  which 
causes  apostasy  in  the  one  ^develops  constancy  in  the 
other,  and  permanence  is  the  proof  of  genuineness.  See 
to  it,  then,  oh!  see  to  it,  that  you  count  the  cost  when 
you  commit  yourself  to  Christ.  Be  not  content  with 
mere  sincerity,  but  cultivate  depth  along  with  it.  Let 
intelligent  conviction  be  the  root  of  impulse  ;  for  unless 
it  be  so  rooted,  it  will  wither  away. 

3.  But  we  must  look  now  briefly  at  the  third  thing 


30  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

^  to  be  guarded  against,  which  we  may  call  the  pre-occu- 
pation  of  the  heart  by  other  objects  than  the  word  heard 
by  the  man.  This  is  symbolized  in  the  parable  by  the 
unclean  soil,  wherein  secretly  lurked  the  seeds  of  many 
thorny  Aveeds,  which  grew  up  with  the  grain,  and  at 
length  overtopped  and  overmastered  it,  taking  to  them- 
selves all  the  sap  that  was  needed  for  its  nourishment, 
so  that  it  never  came  to  maturity.  Here,  you  see,  there 
was  a  real  growth  so  far ;  but  it  was  not  the  exclusive 
growth  of  the  good  seed,  for  other  things  sprang  up  by 
which  it  was  ultimately  choked.  Now,  in  his  interpre- 
tation of  the  story,  the  Lord  tells  us  what  these  thorns 
represent  in  the  heart  of  the  gospel  hearer.  In  Mat- 
thew he  describes  them  as  "  the  cares  of  tins  world,  and 
the  deceitfuluess  of  riches ;  "  in  Mark  he  calls  them  "  the 
cares  of  this  world,  the  deceitfuluess  of  riches,  and  the 
lusts  of  other  things ; "  while  in  Luke  he  summarizes 
them  as  "  cares,  and  riches,-  and  pleasures  of  this  life." 
Now,  putting  them  all  together,  we  get  these  four  things 
symbolized  by  the  thorns,  —  namely,  cares,  riches,  ambi- 
tion, and  pleasure  ;  and  we  may  surely  say  that  he  who 
sees  no  dangers  in  these  as  competitors  in  the  human 
heart  with  the  word  of  God  does  not  know  his  own 
heart,  and  has  learned  little  from  the  observation  of  his 
fellow-men. 

Take  the  cares ;  and  hoAV  often  have  we  seen  the 
maiden  who  in  her  young  life  gave  great  promise  of  a 
lofty  Christian  character,  grow  stunted  and  narrowed 
s])iritually,  under  the  influence  of  mere  domestic  trivi- 
alities! "  Carefid  and  troubled  about  mau}^  things," 
she  has  dwindled  into  a  mere  housekeeper,  on  whose 
heart  the  management  of  home  sits  so  heavil}'  as  to  over- 
lay all  higher  things.  Slic  can  talk  of  nothing  but  her 
children ;  she  has  no  vision  beyond  her  dwelling ;  the 


THE  FOUR  KINDS  OF  SOIL.  31 

great  things  of  the  kingdom  are  shut  out  from  her  per- 
ception by  the  nearness  with  which  she  hokls  the  little 
things  of  her  daily  life  to  her  eyes;  and  the  dust  upon 
her  furniture  lies  more  heavily  on  her  conscience  than 
any  sense  of  sin.  She  has  ceased  to  be  a  companion  to 
her  husband  in  the  highest  sense,  because  she  takes  no 
interest  in  what  he  regards  as  of  pre-eminent  impor- 
tance ;  and  matters  public,  intellectual,  and  spiritual  are 
all  choked  in  her  by  the  undue  development  of  family 
cares.  Her  character  shrivels,  just  because  she  has 
allowed  these  meaner  things  to  get  her  entire  devotion. 
This  may  seem  to  some  a  caricature,  but  I  am  con- 
vinced that  there  is  enough  of  truth  in  it  to  point  tlie 
moral  of  this  part  of  the  parable.  And  the  danger  can 
Ije  ol)viated  only  through  cleansing  the  heart  of  all  such 
cares,  by  casting  them  on  God  and  leaving  them  witli 
liiiii  ;  while,  at  the  same  time,  the  mind  is  turned  to  tlie 
consideration  of  the  infinitely  more  momentous  matters 
that  Christ  in  his  word  has  brought  before  its  attention. 
Take  riches,  again,  and  how  frequently  we  have  seen  a 
case  like  this  !  A  young  man  nnis  fairly  well  the  Chris- 
tian life,  and  is  even  helped  thereby  into  his  first  busi- 
ness success ;  but,  as  his  prosperity  extends,  his  moral 
thoughtfulness  contracts.  lie  gives  ever  less  and  less 
time  to  private  devotion.  Meditation  on  sacred  themes 
gradually  disappears  from  his  life.  One  after  another 
liis  practical  engagements  in  the  field  of  Christian  use- 
fulness are  given  up.  His  business  spreads,  and 
spreads,  and  si)reads.  He  lets  it  grow  upon  him  so  that 
it  is  impossible  for  him  to  manage  it  all  without  over- 
taxing his  strength.  Then  after  a  while  there  is  a 
hopeless  break-down  in  health,  but  not  before  there 
has  been  a  far  more  serious  deterioration  in  his  spiritual 
life;  and  he  who  gave  such  promise  of  bringing  forth 


32  THE  rARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUB. 

much  fruit  ends  liis  days  without  bringing  any  to  per- 
fection. Do  T  exaggerate  in  all  this  ?  Have  I  overdrawn 
the  picture  ?  And,  if  I  have  not,  what  a  loud  call  is 
there  in  this  description,  to  our  business  men,  to  study 
moderation,  and  to  be  on  their  guard  against  that 
deceitfulness  in  prosperity  which  would  lure  them  on 
with  the  promise  of  greater  things,  into  the  ultimate 
loss  of  the  greatest  of  all  things !  How  many,  who 
in  their  earliest  days  were  earnest  Christian  young 
men,  have  dwindled  down,  through  their  successes,  into 
careless  and  indifferent,  half-day,  half-hearted  hearers, 
who  contend  that  religion  never  should  interfere  with 
busuiess,  though  they  themselves  have  let  their  busi- 
ness very  seriously  interfere  with  their  religion ! 
"  What,  then,"  you  ask,  "  must  we  go  out  of  business  ?  " 
I  answer.  No ;  but  do  not  give  your  whole  heart  to  it. 
Rule  it,  but  never  let  it  rule  you.  Transact  it  for  God, 
and  so  consecrate  it  to  God.  Let  God  send  you  to 
your  business,  but  beware  of  letting  your  business  send 
you  awa}^  from  God. 

Take,  again,  ambition,  the  desires  of  other  things,  and 

V  you  may  see  the  same  thing  illustrated.  It  makes  no 
matter  whether  the  department  be  literature,  or  science, 
or  politics :  the  determination  at  all  hazards  and  at 
every  sacrifice  to  be  eminent  in  any  of  them  is  fraught 
with  danger  to  the  Christian  life,  and  may  choke  the 

/  gi'owth  of  the  word  in  the  heart.  It  is  the  sucker 
which  draws  away  the  sap  from  the  tree,  and  so  robs 
it  of  its  vitality,  that  it  immediately  begins  to  decay. 
What  liappens,  commonly,  when  a  man  among  us  goes 
into  politics,  and  becomes  absorbingly  desirous  of  get- 
ting the  position  of  a  senator  or  a  governor,  or  what 
not?  If  the  office  seeks  him,  he  may  be  all  safe,  and 
may  keep  himself  in  the  line  of  spiritual  growth ;  but  if 


TUB  FOUR  KINDS   OF  SOIL.  33 

he  seeks  the  office  with  overmastering  ambition,  let  him 
beware,  for,  if  he  persist  in  such  a  course,  he  may  choke 
out  his  Christian  hfc.  Christ  must  be  supreme,  or  he 
retires  altogether  from  the  soul. 

Finally  take  pleasure,  and  then  tell  me  what  a  poor, 
paltry,  butterfly  Christianity  (if,  indeed,  we  should  call 
it  Christianity  at  all)  theirs  is  who  try  to  combine  with 
their  profession  a  life  in  and  for  fashion  and  frivolity. 
"VVe  cannot  withdraw  from  society,  indeed  ;  but  they  who 
delight  in  it  as  the  supreme  good  have  already  overlaid 
the  germs  of  spiritual  life  within  them,  and  will  soon 
become  worldlings. 

Am  I  wrong,  my  friends,  when  I  say  that  in  these 
thorns  we  have  the  great  dangers  against  which  gos- 
pel hearers  in  this  day  and  in  this  place  need  most 
of  all  to  guard?  They  are  too  largely  choking  the 
growth  of  the  word  in  the  city  as  a  whole.  They 
have  encroached  on  our  week-day  Christianity,  and 
they  are  gradually  invading  the  sanctuary  of  the  Lord's 
Day  itself;  Avhile  among  individuals  they  are  growing 
so  strong  and  rank,  that  the  closet  is  too  much  neg- 
lected ;  family  worship  has  almost  disappeared ;  the 
weekly  prayer  and  conference  meeting  is  ignored ;  and 
every  thing  is  made  to  give  way  to  business  or  pleas- 
ure or  ambition.  I  am  no  pessimist ;  but  I  see  in  all  this 
a  great  peril,  not  only  to  individuals,  but  to  the  Church 
as  a  whole,  and  to  the  community  at  large. 

II.  I  ought  now  to  go  on  to  the  consideration  of  the 
qualities  to  be  cultivated  by  gospel  hearers,  as  these  are 
indicated  in  the  Saviour's  explanation  of  the  seed  which 
fell  into  good  soil ;  but  the  length  to  which  my  remarks 
have  already  extended,  as  well  as  the  fact  that  I  have 
already  incidentally  anticipated   much  that   might   be 


34  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

said  on  tliis  branch  of  tlie  subject,  must  constrain  me  to 
be  brief.  Our  Lord,  as  reported  by  Luke,  says,  "  That  on 
the  good  ground  are  they  which  in  an  honest  and  good 
heart,  having  heard  the  word,  keep  it,  and  bring  forth 
fruit  with  patience."  "An  honest  and  good  heart,"  — 
that  is  what  we  need  when  we  come  to  listen  to  the 
word  ;  a  heart  whose  aim  is  noble,  and  which  is  entirely 
devoted  to  that  aim  ;  such  a  heart  as  Cornelius  had  when 
he  said  to  Peter,  "Now  therefore  are  we  all  here  pres- 
ent, to  hear  all  things  that  are  commanded  us  of  God ;  "  ^ 
S(tich  a  heart  as  the  Bereans  had,  of  whom  it  is  said  that 
after  listening  to  Paul  they  "  searched  the  Scriptures 
daily,  whether  these  things  were  so."  ^ 
,  Now,  the  qualities  which  such  hearts  bring  to  tlie 
hearing  of  the  gospel  are  these  :  Attention  :  they  hear. 
Meditation:  they  keep.  Obedience:  they  bring  forth 
fruit  with  patience. 

1.  There  is,  first,  attention.  The  good  hearer  stirs 
himself  up  to  listen.  He  trains  himself  to  follow  the 
speaker.  He  will  not  be  allured,  by  any  association,  to 
take  his  mind  away  from  the  truths  which  are  brought 
before  him.  \  He  will  leave  his  bushiess  behind  him  for 
the  time.  He  will  let  the  dress  and  appearance  of  his 
fellow-hearers  alone.  He  will  recognize,  that,  in  the 
providence  of  God's  Spirit,  there  is  something  in  the  daily 
ministration  for  him;  and  he  will  be  eagerly  on  the  watch 
lest  he  should  miss  that.  (His  hearing  is  an  opportunity,) 
and  he  is  determined  to  make  the  most  of  it  in  tiiat 
aspect  of  the  case. 

2.  \There  is,  second,  meditation.  I  use  that  term, 
rather  than  "remembrance,"  as  the  equivalent  of  "keep- 
ing" the  word :j for  some  have  such  memoiies  that  they 
can  recall  an  address  verbathn,  while  yet  it  does  them  no 

1  Acts  X.  23.  2  Ibid.,  xvii.  11. 


THE  FOUR  KTNDS   OF  SOIL.  35 

apparent  good ;  and  others  have  no  verbal  remembrance  of 
what  has  been  said,  wliile  yet  somehow  the  subject  seems 
to  have  permeated  their  spirits  and  greatly  benefited 
them,  because  they  have  (caught  the  drift  of  the  thought, 
and  have  carried  out  independent  meditation  thereon. 
Not,  therefore,  the  memory  of  what  we  hear,  but  reflec-  / 
tive  thought  upon  it,  is  of  essential  service  here;] and 
we  must  not  imagine  that  what  we  cannot  recall  does 
us  no  good,  any  more  than  that,  because  we  can  recall 
it,  we  must  surely  be  the  better  for  it.  Meditation  is  to 
hearing  what  digestion  is  to  eating :  it  assimilates  what 
we  hear,  for  our  own  edification  and  growth  in  grace. 
And  the  good  and  honest  heart  will  always  seek  to 
have  some  time  for  its  exercise  after  the  hearing  of  the 
word.  But  alas !  meditation  as  a  Christian  exercise  is 
rax)idly  disappearing  from  among  us.  A  great  English 
preacher  has  said,  "  I,  for  my  part,  believe  that  there 
are  few  Christian  duties  more  neglected  than  that  of 
meditation,  the  very  name  of  which  has  fallen  of  late 
into  comparative  disuse  that  augurs  ill  for  the  frequency 
of  the  thing.  (^We  are  so  busy  discussing,  defending, 
inquiring,  or  preaching,  and  teaching,  and  working,  that 
we  have  no  time  and  no  leisure  of  heart  for  quiet  con- 
templation, without  which  the  exe^rcise  of  the  intellect 
upon  Christ's  truth  will  not  feedyand  busy  activity  in 
Christ's  cause  may  starve  the  soul.  There  are  few 
things  which  the  Church  of  this  day  in  all  its  parts 
needs  more  than  to  obey  the  invitation,  "Come  ye  your- 
selves apart  into  a  lonely  place,  and  rest  a  while.' "^ 
This  witness  is  true.  Let  us  learn,  therefore,  from  - 
these  words,  to  cultivate  this  neglected  grace.  Willmot 
says,  in  his  hints  on  reading,  "Prop(jrtion  an  hour's  re- 

1  Alex.  Maclareu,  D.D.,  The  Secret  of  Power,  aud  other  Sermons, 
p.  35. 


36  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

flection  to  an  hour's  reading,  and  so  dispirit  the  book 
into  the  student."^  So  I  woukl  say,  Let  every  time  of 
hearing  be  followed  by  a  time  of  meditation ;  that  the 
seed  which  has  fallen  on  the  soil  may,  as  it  were,  be 
"harrowed"  into  it  by  the  process, 
f  3.  Then  there  is,  finally,  obedience :, they  bring  forth 
fruit  with  patience.  To  hear  without  obeying  is  to 
harden  the  heart  ;Vor,  as  Bishop  Butler  says,  "  passive 
impressions  grow  weaker  by  being  repeated."  ^  So  the 
man  who,  being  affected  by  what  he  hears,  takes  no  action 
thereon,  only  makes  himself  thereby  more  impervious  to 
the  truth  when  it  is  again  presented,  and  he  will  need  more 
to  bring  these  feelings  back  another  time,  than  he  did  to 
have  them  produced  at  first;  until  at  last  he  becomes 
"past  feeling"  altogether.  But  the  acting  on  what  we 
hear  prepares  us  for  being  better  hearers  next  time,  and 
quickens  the  receptivity  of  the  soul.  ;  Even  among 
good  hearers,  however,  there  will  be  differences,  and 
some  will  make  more  of  their  opportunities  than  others; 
just  as  in  the  good  soil  some  brought  forth  thirty-fold, 
some  sixty-fold,  and  some  an  hundred-fold.  But  these 
discrepancies  may  be  owing  to  inherent  and  original 
differences  of  disposition,  and  should  neither  make 
us  envious  of  others,  nor  dispose  us  to  think  ourselves 
superior  to  them. 

To  sum  up,  then,  the  great  lesson  of  this  parable  is, 
that,  to  get  all  the  good  out  of  the  hearing  of  the  word 
that  we  possibly  can,  we  must  bring  to  it  an  honest 
heart,  that  will  attend  to,  meditate  on,  and  act  out  the 
truth  which  is  presented  to  it.  And  we  must  be  on  our 
guard  against  a  heart  that  is  hardened  into  impervious- 
ness,  or  characterized  by  superficial  impulsiveness,  or 

1  Willmot's  Pleasures  of  Literature,  p.  38. 

2  Butler's  Analogy,  Part  I.,  chap.  v. 


577^  FOUB  KINDS   OF  SOIL.  37 

foul  with  the  germs  of  care  or  covetousness  or  ambition 
or  pleasure.  And  if  you  want  to  know  where  and  how 
to  get  such  a  heart,  go  home,  and  ponder  and  pray  over 
these  words  of  the  sacred  historian  regarding  the  first 
Cliristian  convert  in  Philippi :  "  whose  heart  the  Lord 
opened,  that  she  attended  to  the  things  that  were 
spoken  of  Paul.''^ 

1  Acts  xvi.  13. 


38  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR. 


III. 

THE    TARES,   AND    THE   DRAG-NET. 

(Matt.  xiii.  24-30,  36-43,  47-50.) 

These  two  parables  must  be  taken  together.  They 
form  one  of  the  "  pairs  "  which  we  named  in  our  last  dis- 
course, when  we  classified  the  parables  contained  in  this 
chapter.  They  illustrate  different  shades  of  the  same 
general  truth.  Both  alike  deal  with  the  co-existence 
of  good  and  evi-1  within  the  same  enclosure,  and  both  of 
them  look  at  the  question  of  the  absolute  separation 
of  the  evil  from  the  good ;  but  the  one  gives  prominence 
to  the  impracticability  of  attaining  that  before  a  certain 
period,  while  the  other  emphasizes  the  assurance  that 
such  a  separation  will  be  ultimately  secured. 

In  the  parable  of  the  tares,  we  have  a  field,  which, 
after  due  preparation,  the  husbandman  sows  \\\i\\  good 
wheat.  But  after  a  while,  and  before  that  seed  has 
sprouted,  an  enemy  steals  along  in  the  night,  when  all 
]|t>ncst  people  are  asleep,  and  sows  the  field  over  again 
with  tares.  There  is  therefore,  you  observe,  no  censure 
even  so  much  as  implied,  on  men  generally  for  being 
asleeji.  It  Avas  the  time  for  sleep,  and  they  were  taking 
only  their  regular  and  proper  rest.  But  the  enemy, 
knowing  that,  took  advantage  of  it  to  carry  out  his 
malicious  purpose,  and  contrived  to  do  a  very  mean 
and  troublesome  thing.      For  the  tare  —  which  is  not 


THE   TARES,   AND   THE  DRAG-NET.  39 

to  be  confounded  with  the  vetch  that  is  often  called  by 
that  name  in  England  —  was  really  the  bearded  darnel, 
which  is  a  very  noxious  weed.  In  the  earlier  stages  of 
its  growth,  it  is  almost  impossible  for  any  one  to  distin- 
guish it  from  wheat  or  barley ;  although,  when  both  it 
and  the  wheat  have  "headed  out,"  the  one  is  easily 
known  from  the  other.  Says  Dr.  Thomson,  "  Even  the 
farmers,  who  in  Palestine  generally  weed  their  fields, 
do  not  pretend  to  distinguish  the  one  from  the  other. 
They  would  not  only  mistake  good  grain  for  tares,  but 
very  commonly  the  roots  of  tlie  two  are  so  intertwined 
that  it  is  impossible  to  separate  them  without  plucking 
out  both."  ^  The  same  author  assures  us  tliat  he  had 
never  heard  of  Arab  malice  having  tried  to  injure  an 
enemy  in  this  particular  way :  but  it  must  have  been 
known  in  the  time  of  our  Saviour;  and  Dean  Alford^ 
tells  us  that  even  in  England,  in  this  enlightened  age,  a 
field  that  belonged  to  himself  was  thus  wilfully  and 
enviously  sown  with  charlock  over  the  wheat,  and  heavy 
damages  were  obtained  against  the  offender.  In  course 
of  time,  both  wlieat  and  tares  grew  up ;  and  when  the 
tares  revealed  tliemselves,  the  servants  of  the  husband- 
man asked  whether  they  should  pull  them  up ;  but  he, 
knowing  the  nature  of  the  darnel,  and  unwilling  to 
endanger  the  wheat,  foil)ade  them  to  do  any  thing,  say- 
ing, "  Let  both  grow  together  until  the  harvest."  When 
the  reaping-time  came,  however,  and  the  thing  could  be 
done  without  detriment  to  the  wlieat,  the  tares  were 
gathered  into  bundles  and  burned,  and  the  wheat  was 
housed  in  the  barn.  Here,  then,  as  we  have  already 
hinted,  we  have  the  separation  between  the  good  and 
the  evil  deferred,  for  a  good  reason  too,  till  the  coiii- 

1  Central  Palestine  .iikI  PlKtuicia,  jip.  3t)5,  396. 

2  Greek  Testament,  in  loco. 


40  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR  SAVIOUB. 

pletion  of  growth  and  the  ripening  of  both ;  and  then 
it  is  absolutely  and  forever  effected. 

In  the  parable  of  the  net,  we  see  fishermen,  such  as 
some  of  the  apostles  themselves  were,  casting  their  long 
seine-net  into  the  lake,  and  then  dragging  it  by  boats  at 
either  end  to  the  shore.  It  brings  in  a  heterogeneous 
collection  of  all  sorts  of  things  that  swim  the  deep,  and 
much  that  is  of  no  use  whatever  to  anybody.  But  by 
and  by  order  is  brought  out  of  the  confusion ;  for  the 
fishermen  gather  that  which  is  good  into  vessels,  and 
cast  the  bad  away.  Here,  again,  we  have  good  and  bad 
in  the  same  enclosure.  The  mixture  in  this  case  could 
not  have  been  prevented  by  any  ordinary  fisherman,  but 
there  was  a  separation  at  the  last. 

So  far  all  is  plain.  But  what  is  the  spiritual  signifi- 
cance of  all  this?  The  Lord  himself  has  given  us  a 
partial  answer,  in  his  interpretation  of  the  parable  of 
the  tares,  when  he  tells  us  that  the  field  is  the  world ; 
that  the  sower  of  the  good  seed  is  the  Son  of  man ;  that 
the  sower  of  the  tares  is  the  Devil ;  and  that  the  wheat 
represents  the  children  of  the  kingdom,  and  the  tares 
the  children  of  the  wicked  one.  We  have  also  much 
light  shed  on  the  whole  matter,  when  we  learn  that  the 
harvest  is  the  end  of  the  world,  and  that  the  separation 
between  the  good  and  the  bad  shall  take  place  at  the 
final  judgment,  —  all  of  which  is  confirmed  by  the  words 
with  which  the  Lord  concludes  the  parable  of  the  net : 
"  So  shall  it  be  at  the  end  of  the  world :  the  angels  shall 
come  forth,  and  sever  the  wicked  from  among  the  just, 
and  shall  cast  them  into  the  furnace  of  fire ;  there  shall 
be  wailing,  and  gnashing  of  teeth." 

But  all  this,  I  said,  is  only  ix  2^artial  answer,  and  some 
may  wonder  at  my  using  such  an  expression  in  regard 


THE   TARES,   AND   THE  DRAG-NET.  41 

to  any  interpretation  given  by  the  Lord  himself.  Yet 
it  is  the  literal  truth ;  for  there  has  been  immense  diffi- 
culty, from  the  earliest  days  of  the  Church  until  now,  in 
coming  at  the  meaning  of  his  words,  "  the  field  is  the 
world ; "  and  you  will  observe  that  he  has  himself  left 
out  of  his  interpretation  of  the  parable  all  reference 
whatever  to  the  proposal  of  the  servants  to  go  and 
gather  up  the  tares,  as  also  to  the  answer  of  the  hus- 
bandman to  this  effect :  "  Nay,  lest  while  ye  gather  up 
the  tares,  ye  root  up  also  the  wheat  with  them.  Let 
both  grow  together  until  the  harvest."  And  there  has 
been  much  discussion  as  to  the  spiritual  significance 
of  that  conversation.  We  can  hardly  suppose  that  so 
prominent  a  colloquy  had  no  hidden  meaning ;  and  yet 
the  silence  of  the  Saviour  regarding  it  has  left  the  mat- 
ter open,  and  that  has  provoked  considerable  contro- 
versy. 

The  main  questions  are  these :  What  does  Christ 
precisely  mean  when  he  says,  "  the  field  is  the  world  "  ? 
And  did  he  desire  it  to  be  inferred  from  the  conversa- 
tion between  the  husbandman  and  his  servants,  that  no 
means  whatever  are  to  be  taken  for  keeping  the  good 
from  being  contaminated  and  injured  by  the  evil  ? 

First,  what  precisely  does  he  mean  when  he  says  that 
"  the  field  is  the  world  "  ?  Does  he  mean  the  world  in 
its  most  extensive  sense,  as  including  the  human  race 
as  a  whole  ?  Or  does  he  mean  what  we  in  these  days 
would  call  the  Church  visible,  which  consists  of  the 
acrm-ecration  of  all  the  Christian  organizations  in  the 
world?  Since  the  days  of  the  Donatist  controversy, 
in  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  century,  that  has  been  a 
much-contested  question.  On  the  one  hand,  it  has  been 
contended  that  the  parable  refers  to  the  history  of  the 
human  race,  and  that  it  was  simply  intended  to  forbid 


42  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

every  thing  like  persecution  for  religions  opinion  or 
belief.  No  attempt  should  be  made,  either  by  civil 
magistrate  or  by  church  dignitary  or  by  ecclesiastical 
court,  to  get  rid  of  error  or  unbehef  by  putting  the 
heretic  or  the  infidel  to  death.  Let  both  believer  and 
unbeliever  live.  Both  alike  are  accountable  for  all  such 
things  to  God  alone,  and  he  will  send  every  one  to  his 
own  place  at  the  last.  So  said  the  Donatists  when 
they  were  pressed  with  this  parable  by  Augustine,  who 
inferred  from  it  that  the  absolutely  pure  church  for 
which  they  were  contending  was  to  be  found  alone  in 
heaven ;  and  so  virtually  say  still  such  commentators  as 
Arnot  and  Abbot.  Such  also  was  my  own  opinion  when 
I  went  to  study  the  parable  with  a  view  to  the  prepa- 
ration of  this  discourse.  But  the  longer  time  I  have 
given  to  the  consideration  of  the  subject,  the  less  am  I 
inclined  to  hold  by  this  view  as  correct.  For  the  para- 
ble is  designed  to  illustrate  the  kingdom  of  heaven, 
"  which  signifies  the  new  order  of  things  which  Christ 
came  to  establish,  and  which  is  conveniently  described 
as  the  church  which  owns  him  as  its  Lord."  ^  It  will 
hardly  do,  therefore,  to  adopt  an  interpretation  which 
sends  us  away  back  to  the  creation  of  man,  when  all 
in  him  as  well  as  around  him  was  very  good,  and  which 
sees  in  the  temptation  of  our  first  parents  the  sowing  of 
the  field  with  tares.  The  sower  of  the  good  seed  is 
the  Son  of  man  :  therefore  it  is  clear  that  we  must  look 
in  the  church,  and  after  the  incarnation,  for  the  growth 
of  that  seed ;  and  there,  too,  we  must  look  for  the  tares 
which  sjDrang  up  among  the  wheat.  This  view  is  cor- 
roborated by  the  parable  of  the  net ;  for,  if  the  net  is 
not  the  church,  what  is  it  ?  Mr.  Arnot  virtually  —  at 
least,  so   it   seems  to  me  —  answers,  Death ;   but  that 

1  Plumptre,  in  loc. 


THE  TABES,   AND   THE  DBAG-NET.  43 

is  surely  a  far-fetched  view  of  the  case,  and  the  conscious- 
ness that  it  is  so  seems  almost  to  betray  itself  in  the 
vague  phraseology  which  he  has  employed.  Here  are 
his  words :  "  The  sea  is  the  world.  The  net,  almost  or 
altogether  invisible  at  first  to  those  whom  it  surrounds, 
is  that  unseen  bond,  which,  by  an  invisible  ministry,  is 
stretched  over  the  living,  drawing  them  gradually,  se- 
cretly, surel}^  toward  the  boundary  of  this  life,  and 
over  it  into  another."  ^  It  is  a  long  periphrasis,  but  I 
can  make  nothing  else  out  of  it  than  Death,  with  his 
stealthy  march,  gathering  all  on  to  the  shore  of  the 
beyond,  preparatory  to  final  judgment.  But  what  has 
that  to  do  with  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  —  the  new  sys- 
tem which  Christ  set  up,  and  to  which  the  net  is  here 
likened  ?  Was  not  all  that  just  as  true  of  death  and 
the  race  before  Christ  came  ?  And  must  we  not  seek 
for  the  interpretation  in  something  peculiar  to  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  as  such  ?  These  considerations  outweigh 
all  others.  And  so  we  regard  tlie  net  here  as  repre- 
senting tlie  church,  and  that  finds  its  parallel  in  the 
field  in  the  parable  of  the  tares.  In  the  church,  there- 
fore, as  in  the  net  and  in  the  field,  there  will  be  both 
good  and  bad. 

Well,  but,  if  that  is  the  case,  what  are  we  to  make 
of  the  command  given  to  the  servants,  "  Let  both  grow 
together  until  the  harvest "  ?  —  do  not  attempt  just  now 
to  uproot  the  tares,  lest  ye  pull  up  the  wheat  with 
them.  Does  not  that  look  like  a  formal  prohibition  of 
any  thing  like  discipline  in  the  visible  Church  ?  And 
can  an  interpretation  which  leads  to  such  a  conclusion 
be  correct?  No  doubt,  on  the  first  blush  of  the  matter, 
there  appears  to  be  great  force  in  these  objections ;  and 
it  was  on  account  of  them,  I  believe,  that  Mr.  Arnot 

J  The  Parables  of  Our  Lord,  by  Rev.  ^Villiam  Arnot,  p.  170. 


44  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

was  so  strenuous  in  advocating  the  other  view.  But  in 
reply  to  them  I  would  advance  the  following  considera- 
tions :  First,  That  church  discipline  is  clearly  enjoined 
by  many  plain  passages  of  the  New  Testament,  and 
that  no  interpretation  of  any  parable  may  be  put  against 
that.  It  is  a  recognized  canon  of  intcrj^retation,  that 
nothing  in  a  parable  is  to  be  made,  simply  in  and  of 
itself,  the  foundation  of  a  doctrine  or  a  practice.  So, 
whatever  may  be  the  meaning  of  this  parable,  it  will 
not  invalidate  what  is  elsewhere  plainly  laid  down  as  to 
discipline.  Second,  Discipline  rightly  understood  is  for 
the  saving  of  a  man  to  the  church,  and  not  for  the  cast- 
ing of  him  out  of  it.  The  end  of  discipline  is  not  so 
much  the  purity  of  the  church,  —  though  that  of  course 
is  not  to  be  lost  sight  of,  —  as  the  restoration  of  the 
offender.  Third,  What  the  parable  here  recommends  is 
not  so  much  the  following  of  a  certain  course,  as  the 
cultivating  of  a  certain  spirit.  As  Bruce  has  said  in 
this  very  connection,  "  Christ  is  not  here  laying  down  1 
a  rule  for  the  regulation  of  ecclesiastical  practice,  but  , 
inculcating  the  cultivation  of  a  certain  spirit,  the  spirit  | 
of  a  wise  patience."  And  again,  "  The  parable  neither  \ 
prohibits  nor  fixes  limits  to  ecclesiastical  discipline,  but 
teaches  a  spirit  that  will  affect  that  part  as  well  as  all 
other  parts  of  religious  conduct,  and  which,  if  it  had 
prevailed  in  the  church  more  than  it  ever  has  prevailed, 
would  have  made  the  church's  history  very  different 
from  what  it  is."  ^  Do  as  we  will,  we  shall  never  get 
evil  entirely  out  of  the  church  in  this  world ;  and  the 
attempt  to  uproot  it  at  all  hazards  is  sure  to  end  in 
something  worse  than  that  which  was  sought  to  be  re- 
moved. 

These  are  the  two  truths  which  to  me  now  are  sug- 

1  The  Parabolic  Teaching  of  Christ,  by  A.  B.  Bruce,  D.D.,  pp.  54,  55. 


THE   TARES,  AND   THE  DRAG-NET.  45 

gestecl  by  the  principal  j)ortion  of  the  parable  of  the 
tares ;  while  the  concluding  part  of  it,  and  the  whole 
parable  of  the  net,  give  solemn  emphasis  to  the  fact, 
that  what  is  impracticable  here  will  be  accomplished  at 
last,  when  "  the  righteous  shall  shine  forth  as  the  sun  in 
the  kingdom  of  their  Father ;  and  all  that  offend,  and 
they  which  do  iniquity,  shall  be  cast  into  the  place  of 
torment,  where  shall  be  wailing  and  gnashing  of  teeth." 
Let  us  seek  to  illustrate  briefly  each  of  these  three 
points,  and  so  get  at  the  combined  essence  of  these  two 
parables. 

I.  Do  as  we  will,  we  shall  never  get  evil  entirely  out 
of  the  church.  The  ideal  church  is  in  heaven.  Of  that, 
and  that  alone,  can  it  be  said  Avith  truth,  "  And  there 
shall  in  no  wise  enter  into  it  any  thing  that  defileth, 
neither  whatsoever  worketh  abomination  or  maketh  a 
lie ;  but  they  which  are  written  in  the  Lamb's  book  of 
life."  ^  Even  the  Donatists  were  obliged  to  admit,  that, 
with  all  their  efforts  to  obtain  purity  of  communion, 
they  were  unable  absolutely  to  gain  that  on  which  their 
hearts  were  set.  In  the  Philippian  church  there  were 
many  of  whom  Paul,  weeping,  wrote  that  they  were 
"  the  enemies  of  the  cross  of  Christ ; "  and  among  the 
twelve  who  were  the  first  apostles  of  the  Lord,  we  can- 
not forget  that  there  was  Judas,  the  son  of  perdition. 
Always  there  lias  been  this  mixture  of  good  and  evil, 
even  in  the  visible  Christian  Church ;  and  there  always 
will  be,  till  the  time  of  the  end. 

Now,  this  truth,  sad  in  itself,  has  a  twofold  lesson  in 
it.  First,  it  is  well  fitted  to  give  comfort  to  those  who 
arc  laboring  in  the  ministr}^  of  the  gospel,  and  to  all 
who  are  tenderly  solicitous  for  the  honor  of  the  church. 

1  Kev.  xxi.  27. 


46  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

As  a  faithful  pastor's  ministry  lengthens  out,  few  things 
tend  more  to  sadden  him  than  the  perception  of  im- 
perfections, positive  blemishes,  and  evils  in  the  char- 
acters and  conduct  of  those  who  are  members  of  the 
church.  In  the  beginning  of  his  career,  he  is  all  on  fire 
for  the  conversion  of  sinners ;  so  much  so,  indeed,  that 
the  Christians  among  his  hearers  are  apt  to  feel  as  if 
they  were  almost  neglected  in  his  daily  ministrations. 
But  after  a  while  they  who  ran  well  are  seen  to  be 
somehow  hindered,  and  ever  and  anon,  it  may  be,  to  fall 
into  serious  sins ;  so  that  he  is  in  danger  of  becoming 
discouraged,  and  learns  that  he  must  give  a  little  more 
of  his  attention  to  the  watch  and  guidance  of  those  who 
have  been  converted  and  are  already  in  the  church. 
These  feelings,  too,  are  largely  shared  by  the  office- 
bearers who  are  associated  with  him  ;  and  they  all  enter 
into  the  spirit  which  must  have  dictated  the  words  of 
Keble :  — 

"Lord,  in  thy  field  I  work  all  day, 
I  read,  I  preach,  I  warn  and  pray ; 
And  yet  these  wilful,  wandering  sheep, 
Within  thy  fold  I  cannot  keep."  ^ 

Now,  at  such  a  time,  the  thought  emphasized  by  the 
first  of  these  parables  comes  as  a  relief.  The  pastor 
learns  from  it,  that  tares  are  to  be  expected  among  the 
wheat,  and  that  never  on  earth  shall  the  one  be  entirely 
separated  from  the  other.  He  discovers  that  no  new 
thing  has  happened  to  him,  but  that  the  trial  which  has 
come  upon  him  is  one  which  has  been  common  to  all 
who  have  labored  in  the  service  of  the  Church  from 
the  beginning ;  and  while  he  never  thinks  of  becoming 
the  less  earnest  in  his  declaration  of  the  whole  counsel 

1  The  Christian  Year  :  Tuesday  in  Whitsun  week. 


THE   TARES,   AND   THE  DRAG-NET.  47 

of  God,  or  the  less  desirous  for  the  purity  of  the  church, 
he  moderates  his  expectations,  and  begins  to  look  for 
things  which  otherwise  would  have  been  serious  dis- 
appointments and  discouragements.  Now,  that  is  a 
great  matter ;  and  it  is  well  for  all  who  are  pastors  or 
office-bearers  or  members  of  the  church,  and  seriously 
concerned  for  its  purity,  to  remember  it.  Especially  it 
is  well  that  the  younger  brethren  in  the  ministry  should 
take  note  of  it ;  for,  while  it  will  not  abate  their  zeal, 
it  will  keep  them  from  looking  for  impossibilities,  and 
from  courting  disappointment. 

But,  secondly,  this  truth  is  well  calculated  to  correct 
the  error  of  those  who  decline  to  enter  into  the  mem- 
bership of  the  church  because  it  is  not  absolutely  pure. 
There  are  multitudes  everywhere  who  make  the  faults 
of  some  who  are  in  the  church  an  excuse  for  their 
remaining  unconnected  with  any  church.  They  cannot 
get  a  church  pure  enough  to  satisfy  them.  But  have 
these  friends  ever  reflected,  that  even  if  they  could  get, 
on  the  eartli,  a  perfectly  pure  church,  it  would  be  at 
once  defiled  by  their  connection  with  it  ?  For  they  them- 
selves surely  cannot  claim  to  be  absolutely  perfect,  and 
therefore  by  joining  such  a  church  they  would  at  once 
contaminate  it.  But,  more  to  our  present  purpose,  they 
are  looking  for  what  they  cannot  find  upon  the  earth. 
For  admissions  into  the  membership  of  the  church  are 
regulated  by  men  who  cannot  see  into  the  heart,  so  that 
it  is  inevitable  that  they  should  be  sometimes  deceived ; 
and,  the  more  of  value  that  there  comes  to  be  attached  to 
church-membership  in  a  community,  the  more  frequently 
will  such  deception  be  practised  upon  them,  just  as  a 
forger  seeks  most  frequently  to  counterfeit  the  notes  of 
highest  figure.  Let  no  man,  therefore,  plead  the  impurity 
of  the  church  as  an  excuse  for  his  not  joining  it ;  for  the 


48  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

pure  church  is  in  heaven,  and  the  true  conception  of  the 
earthly  church  is  that  of  a  school  for  the  training  of 
imperfect  Christians  toward  that  perfection  which  is  to 
be  found  at  last  above.  The  church  is  not  a  great  ex- 
hibition-hall for  the  display  of  perfect  Christians,  but  an 
educational  institution  for  the  development  of  imperfect 
believers.  Men  do  hot  go  to  school  because  they  know 
what  is  to  be  taught  in  it,  but  that  they  may  learn  that 
of  which  they  are  ignorant ;  and  the  true  spirit  in  which 
one  should  enter  the  church  is  that  of  a  humble  disciple, 
who  confesses  his  weakness  and  ignorance  and  imper- 
fection, and  is  willing  to  take  Christ  as  his  teacher,  that 
he  may  learn  of  him. 

II.  But  the  second  great  lesson  taught  by  the  para- 
ble of  the  tares  is  that  the  rash  attempt  to  separate  the 
good  from  the  bad  in  the  church  may  result  in  a  state 
of  things  that  is  worse  than  that  which  is  sought  to  be 
amended.  The  premature  effort  to  secure  the  absolute 
best  may  result  in  the  positive  worst.  This  holds  in 
every  department  of  life ;  and  wherever  you  go,  or  in 
whatever  sphere  you  may  be  called  to  labor,  you  will 
find  that  you  will  have  patiently  to  put  up,  for  a  time, 
with  things  of  which  you  cannot,  in  the  abstract,  ap- 
prove; lest,  by  trying  hastily  to  mend  them,  you  make 
them  worse  than  ever.  Moses  even,  as  a  lawgiver,  suf- 
fered many  things  for  the  hardness  of  men's  hearts.  He 
did  not  approve  of  the  practices  which  he  found  exist- 
ing among  the  Hebrews  in  regard  to  marriage,  blood- 
revenge,  and  the  like  ;  but  so  deeply  rooted  were  these 
in  the  habits  of  the  people,  that  any  effort  on  his  part  to 
remove  them  at  once  and  altogether  might  have  led  to 
the  repudiation  of  the  law  as  a  whole ;  so  he  was  con- 
tent with  something  short  of  the  best,  in  order  to  obtain 


THE  TARES,   AND   TUE  BRAG-NET.  49 

the  better.  We  find  the  same  principle  underlying  the 
proverb,  which  is  so  frequently  quoted  in  politics,  that 
"  half  a  loaf  is  better  than  no  bread ; "  and  there  are 
many  among  us  ^vh()  think  we  see  that  the  enthusiastic 
prohibitionists,  who  oppose  every  restriction  short  of  the 
absolute  best  which  they  advocate,  are  losing  sight  of 
the  wisdom  which  the  lesson  of  this  parable  inculcates. 
P)Ut  it  is  not  otherwise  in  the  church.  We  have  to  do 
with  things  as  they  are ;  and  we  must  patiently  bear 
Avith  some  matters  which  we  cannot  approve,  because 
we  cannot  reform  them  without  seriously  imperilling 
other  and  more  important  interests.  Take  the  matter 
of  music,  for  example.  A  young  pastor  coming  to  a 
church  may  feel  that  the  existing  state  of  "  the  service 
of  song  in  the  house  of  the  Lord"  is  far  from  being 
what  it  ought  to  be.  What  must  he  do?  Let  me 
answer  by  quoting  a  short  section  from  m}^  lectures  to 
the  students  at  Yale:  "Accept  the  situation,  and  make 
the  very  best  possible  out  of  it,  for  the  glory  of  God 
and  the  edification  of  the  people.  Only  [let  him] 
remember  this,  that  nothing  will  more  interfere  with 
his  usefulness  or  his  happiness,  than  the  stirring-up 
of  a  musical  quarrel.  The  best  all  round  is  often  lost 
by  attempting  to  have  the  absolute  best  in  any  one 
department.  In  the  organ,  if  every  note  be  separately 
tuned  up  to  the  scale,  discord  will  be  the  effect  when 
one  attempts  to  play  upon  it ;  for  it  is  an  imperfect 
instrument,  and  most  of  the  fifths  must  be  left  some- 
what fiat,  and  the  few  others  made  somewhat  sharp,  the 
octaves  alone  being  put  in  perfect  unison.  So,  if  we 
attempt  to  bring  up  the  music  to  the  point  of  perfec- 
tion, we  shall  most  likely  put  the  whole  church  out  of 
tune.  We  must  make  the  best  of  things  as  a  whole, 
and  be  content  sometimes  with  a  little  less  in  some 


50  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

departments,  and  a  little  more  in  others,  in  order  that 
we  may  have  harmony  in  all.  Peace  in  a  church  is 
essential  to  progress.  The  dew  is  not  shed  forth  in  a 
storm,  but  in  the  gentle  calm  of  the  summer's  eve  it 
distils  on  every  blade  of  grass.  So  the  Spirit  comes 
not  down  amid  controversy  and  debate  ;  but  where 
brethren  are  dwelling  in  unity,  there  the  Lord  com- 
mandeth  the  blessing,  even  life  forevermore.  No  music, 
however  perfect,  is  for  a  moment  to  be  preferred  to 
those  higher  matters  of  spiritual  life,  for  the  fostering 
of  which  the  church  exists.  'The  life  is  more  than 
meat,  and  the  body  than  raiment.'  The  church  is  more 
than  music,"  ^  and  the  gaining  of  the  finest  music  that 
was  ever  rendered  is  not  worth  a  church  quarrel. 

Now,  it  is  quite  similar  with  discipline.  Discipline  is 
for  the  church,  not  the  church  for  discipline  ;  and  that 
uncompromising  purism  which  will  insist  on  casting 
every  little  peccadillo  out  of  the  church,  and  disciplin- 
ing a  man  for  matters  of  small  moment,  concerning 
which  many  of  the  members  have  no  conscientious 
scruples  whatever,  will  end  in  the  absolute  annihilation 
of  the  church  itself.  In  this  connection,  there  comes 
to  my  memory  a  fact  narrated  to  rue  by  a  brother 
minister  in  England  to  this  effect.  He  had  been  visit- 
ing a  Scottish  town,  and  called  on  a  friend  there  who 
belonged  to  one  of  the  little  denominations  which  had 
broken  off  from  a  larger  one  on  some  scruple  of  con- 
science. "  How  is  your  church  getting  on  ?"  he  asked. 
"  Oh,"  replied  his  friend,  with  a  kind  of  humor  for 
which  he  was  noted,  "  our  church  seems  to  me  to  have 
been  born  for  the  illustration  of  the  infinite  divisibility 
of  matter,  for  there  are  now  forty-five  members  and 
seven  churches."     We  recall,  too,  the  story  —  true  or 

1  The  Ministry  of  the  Lord,  pp.  234,  235. 


THE   TARES,   AND   TUE  BRAG-NET.  51 

false,  I  have  no  means  of  knowing,  but  it  may  well 
enough  have  been  true  —  of  a  small  church  whose  mem- 
bers went  on  excommunicating  and  excommunicating 
each  other  for  eveiy  little  thing,  until  there  was  left,  as 
a  remnant,  only  a  man  and  his  wife.  "  Well,"  said  one 
to  her,  "you  must  have  got  a  pure  church  at  last." 
"'Deed,"  was  the  answer,  with  inimitable  self-compla- 
cency, "  'deed,  and  1  am  not  so  sure  of  John."  That  is 
the  reductio  ad  absurdian  of  this  rash  and  premature 
attempt  to  get  the  absolute  best.  The  boy  thought  it 
was  a  good  device,  when,  after  being  well  pecked  by 
the  hen  for  seeking  to  find  how  many  eggs  were  beneath 
her,  he  said,  "Oh,  I  know  how  to  get  her  out:  I  will 
burn  her  out."  And  he  did  so,  but  he  burned  the  barn 
down  with  her.  So  it  has  frequently  happened  in  far 
more  serious  matters,  and  a  church  has  been  destroyed 
in  the  effort  simply  made  by  some  imprudent  men  to  get 
what  they  supposed  was  the  absolute  best.  A  quarrel 
about  communion-wine  has  before  now  closed  up  a 
church,  and  quenched  a  light  that  could  not  be  re- 
kindled. So  true  it  is,  that,  in  the  effort  to  root  up 
the  tares,  the  wheat  also  has  been  plucked  with  them. 

Again,  however,  I  am  anxious  that  you  should  not  mis- 
understand all  this.  It  is  not  a  condemnation  of  disci- 
pline wisely  administered,  but  it  is  the  recommendation 
of  a  spirit  of  forbearance  akin  to  that  which  the  jNIaster 
showed  when  he  allowed  Judas,  after  his  knowledge  of 
his  dishonesty,  to  remain  for  years  among  his  disciples. 
And  the  full  reason  ft)r  this  forbearance  no  parable  can 
furnish,  for  it  lies  in  this:  that,  by  the  influence  of  that 
l)atience,  the  evil  members  may  become  good,  and  the 
tares  —  a  natural  impossibility,  but  a  s[)iritual  possibility 
—  be  transmuted  into  wheat.  On  the  one  hand,  then, 
there  is  in  this  rashness   a   danger  of  destroying  the 


C-' 


52  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR. 

good  that  is  in  a  church  :  on  the  other,  there  is  a  pros- 
pect and  hope,  by  the  patience  which  I  have  been  enfor- 
cing, of  changing  the  evil  into  the  good ;  and  so  on  all 
grounds  it  ought  to  be  preferred.  As  Goebel  has  said, 
'■•  The  prcjhibition  in  this  parable  is  not  opposed  to  any 
kind  of  church  discipline,  exercised  on  individual  mem- 
bers for  their  training,  or  as  an  atonement  (?)  for  a 
special  public  scandal ;  but  it  is  simply  directed  against 
the  fundamental  attempt,  by  summary  and  absolute 
exclusion  of  all  false  members,  to  establish  the  Church 
of  God's  kingdom  in  complete  purity  and  sanctity  dur- 
ing the  stadium  of  its  development  on  the  ground  of 
the  world."  i 

III.  But  now,  finally,  both  the  parables,  and  especially 
that  of  the  net,  emphasize  the  fact  that  there  will  be,  at 
the  last  judgment,  an  absolute  separation  between  the 
good  and  the  bad.  "  The  Son  of  man  shall  send  forth 
his  angels ;  and  they  shall  gather  out  of  his  kingdom 
all  things  that  offend,  and  them  which  do  iniquity,  and 
shall  cast  them  into  a  furnace  of  fire  :  there  shall  be 
wailing  and  gnashing  of  teeth.  Then  shall  the  right- 
eous shine  forth  as  the  sun  in  the  kingdom  of  their 
Father."  And  again :  "  At  the  end  of  the  world  the 
angels  shall  come  forth,  and  sever  the  wicked  from 
among  the  just,  and  shall  cast  them  into  the  furnace 
of  fire :  there  shall  be  wailing  and  gnashing  of  teeth." 
The  judgment  shall  make  that  separation  for  all  men. 
But  here  the  solemn  part  of  the  lesson  is,  that  those 
who  are  to  be  separated  from  each  other  were  together 
in  the  Church  of  Christ  upon  the  earth.  And  so  the 
warning  comes  with  terrible  power,  to  the  effect  that 

1  The  Parables  of  Jesus,  by  Siegfried  Goebel,  translated  by  Professor 
Banks,  p.  73. 


TEE   TABES,   AND   THE  BBAG-NET.  53 

mere  membership  in  the  church  gives  no  guaranty  of 
everhisting  felicity.  Read  the  concluding  sections  of 
the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  and  you  will  understand 
better,  perhaps,  the  Saviour's  meaning  here.  It  is  not 
enough  that  you  have  eaten  and  drunk  in  Christ's  pres- 
ence, and  that  you  have  been  active  in  working  in  and 
for  the  church:  the  question  is,  Are  you  in  Christ? 
It  is  not  enough  that  you  are  growing  in  the  field  of 
the  church  :  the  question  is,  Are  you  wheat,  or  tares  ?  are 
you  Christ's  in  heart  and  soul  and  character,  as  well  as 
by  profession  and  position  ?  It  is  not  enough  that  you 
are  enclosed  in  the  net  of  the  church  :  the  question,  after 
all,  is.  Are  you  good  or  bad  in  it?  I  shall  not  undertake 
to  answer  that  for  you ;  but  I  will  urge  you  to  take  it 
with  you  to  the  closet,  and  ask  God  to  help  you  to  find 
the  truth  about  it  for  yourselves  there. 

And  if,  at  last,  judgment  is  to  begin  thus  at  the  house 
of  God,  what  shall  the  end  be  of  them  that  "  obey  not 
the  gospel  of  God"?  If  the  impure  member  of  the 
church  is  to  be  cast  out  forever  into  the  place  where  shall 
be  wailing  and  gnashing  of  teeth,  what  shall  be  the 
portion  of  the  open  sinner  ?  Let  him  not  congratulate 
himself  that  he  is  innocent  of  insincerity  or  hypocrisy ; 
for,  though  that  be  true,  it  is  only  a  confession  that  he 
is  sincerely  God's  enemy,  and  that  is  a  terrible  thing. 
Beware,  therefore,  lest  you  break  yourself  against  the 
thick  bosses  of  the  Almighty's  buckler,  and  be  ever- 
lastingly cut  off. 


54  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 


IV. 

THE    MUSTARD-SEED,    AND    THE    LEAVEN. 

(Matt.  xiii.  31-33.) 

In  the  parables  belonging  to  this  chapter  which  we 
have  already  considered,  the  Lord  has  dealt  mainly 
with  the  obstacles  which  his  kingdom  had  to  meet 
alike  in  the  hearts  of  men  and  in  the  malice  of  Satan ; 
but  in  those  now  before  us  he  proceeds  to  speak  of  its 
final  triumph.  These  also  constitute  a  pair,  and  must 
be  studied  together  if  at  least  we  would  get  at  the  full 
truth  regarding  the  subject  of  which  they  both  treat. 
That  subject  is  the  progress  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
upon  the  earth;  but  the  one  gives  prominence  to  the 
external  contrast  between  its  small  beginning  and  its 
ultimate  magnitude,  while  the  other  emphasizes  the 
method  of  its  internal  operation,  and  the  universality 
of  its  diffusion  at  the  last. 

In  the  former  the  kingdom  is  compared  to  a  mustard- 
seed  planted  by  a  man,  which  grew  up  to  be  so  large  that 
the  birds  of  the  air  found  a  lodging  in  its  branches. 
Among  the  rabbins,  "  a  grain  of  mustard-seed  "  was  a 
familiar  phrase  for  any  thing  exceedingly  small,  just  as 
we  sometimes  speak  of  a  "  peppercorn  ;  "  and  with  this 
fact  in  our  minds  it  is  idle,  as  Dr.  James  Hamilton  has 
said,^  to  seek  for  a  seed  more  tiny,  or  to  press  the  words, 
"which  is  indeed  the  least  of  all  seeds,"  into  literal 

1  Fairbairn's  Imperial  Bible  Dictionary,  art.  "  Mustard-seed." 


THE  MUSTARD-SEED,   AND   THE  LEAVEN.         65 

exactness,  and  cavil  at  the  accuracy  of  the  representa- 
tion, because  it  may  turn  out  that  the  seed  of  a  poppy 
or  the  spore  of  a  fungus  is  smaller.  When  this  little 
germ  is  planted,  it  grows  up  to  become  one  of  the  lar- 
gest of  herbs.  It  does  not  develop  into  a  size  like  that 
of  the  oak  or  the  cedar  tree  ;  but  it  overtops  other  herbs, 
and  becomes  sufficiently  high  and  expansive  for  birds 
to  find  shelter  in  its  branches.  A  great  result  from  a 
small  beginning,  a  large  growth  from  a  little  germ,  — 
that  is  the  one  thought  of  the  parable,  and  of  that 
the  Lord  declares  that  the  kingdom  of  heaven  upon  the 
earth  is  an  instance.  It  is  simply  absurd,  therefore,  to 
endeavor  to  find  a  hidden  meaning  in  the  field  in  which 
the  seed  was  planted,  in  the  man  who  planted  it,  in  the 
pungency  of  the  nuistard,  or  in  the  little  birds  that 
seek  shelter  beneath  its  leaves.  All  these  are  over- 
refinements  and  irrelevant,  tending  only  to  withdraw 
attention  from  the  main  point  for  the  bringing-out  of 
which  the  parable  was  employed,  and  which  in  these 
later  daj^s  needs  only  to  be  stated  to  be  recognized. 
The  kingdom  of  heaven  on  the  earth  had  a  beginning, 
which,  when  compared  with  its  present  condition,  is  as 
the  mustard-seed  is.  to  the  herb  that  grows  therefrom. 

•  The  Christian  Church  w^as  almost  insignificant,  exter- 
nally at  least,  in  its  origin.  Two  of  the  disciples  of 
John  the  Baptist  having  heard  their  master  say,  as  he 
pointed  to  Jesus,  "  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  that  tak- 
etli  away  the  sin  of  the  world,"  followed  him  with 
the  inquirj',  "  Rabbi,  where  dwellest  thou  ?  "  spent  the 
night  with  him,  became  convinced  that  he  was  the 
Christ,  and  determined  to  take  him  as  their  master. 
That  was  all.  Then  one  of  these  brought  his  brother ; 
and  a  third  who  had  been  meanwhile  called  brought 


66  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

one  of  his  friends,  avIig  in  turn  enlisted  his  fellow- 
townsman  ;  and  so  it  went  on  nntil  after  the  lapse  of 
two  or  three  centuries  it  had  overspread  the  Roman 
Empire,  and  now  its  adherents  are  numbered  by 
millions,  dwelling  on  all  the  quarters  of  the  globe, 
and  on  the  islands  of  all  the  seas.  It  is  another 
version  of  Daniel's  prophecy  that  the  stone  cut  out  of 
the  mountain,  without  hands,  should  become  a  great 
mountain,  and  fill  the  whole  earth ;  and  another  illus- 
tration of  Zechariah's  words,  "  Who  hath  despised  the 
day  of  small  things  ?  "  The  parable  gives  no  indication 
how  this  result  was  to  be  brought  about.  It  rather 
implies  than  mentions  the  vitality  of  the  seed ;  and  it 
has  nothing  to  say  about  the  philosophy  of  its  growth, 
or  about  the  nature  of  the  effects  which  it  produces. 
It  simply  points  the  contrast  between  the  smallness  of 
the  beginning,  and  the  magnitude  of  the  result. 

This  is  a  thought  with  which  in  many  other  depart- 
ments we  are  familiar;  but  there  is  none  of  them  all 
which  can  furnish  such  an  exempHfication  of  it  as  that 
which  is  given  by  the  Christian  Church.  In  its  origin 
it  was  all  but  unnoticed  by  the  great  ones  of  the  earth. 
Hardly  a  secular  historian  alludes  to  it,  and  the  two 
who  do  make  mention  of  it  sjieak  of  the  gospel  as  a 
wretched  superstition ;  but  to-day  it  is  the  most  con- 
spicuous fact  in  the  civilized  world,  and  it  is  still 
pushing  its  conquests  into  the  uttermost  parts  of  the 
earth.  The  handful  of  corn  scattered  upon  the  tops  of 
the  mountains  now  shakes  like  the  cedars  of  Lebanon. 
The  fishermen  disciples  of  the  despised  Nazarene  have 
multiplied  into  twelve  million  fold.  "  The  stone  which 
the  builders  despised  has  become  the  head  stone  of  the 
corner:  this  is  the  Lord's  doing,  and  it  is  marvellous 
in  our  eyes." 


THE  MUSTAJiB-r^EED,   AND   THE  LEAVEN.         57 

The  parable  of  tlic  iiuistard-seed  is  taken  from  the 
garden  or  the  licld ;  that  of  the  leaven  is  derived  from 
the  household.  There  is  nothing,  therefore,  in  the 
homely  work  of  this  woman  which  needs  any  explana- 
tion at  my  hands.  Probably  every  house-mother  here 
knows  more  about  it  than  I  could  tell  her ;  and  we 
can  all  see  that  it  is  employed  to  illustrate  that  active 
and  aggressive  principle  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
which  assimilates  men  to  Christ,  and  which  is  to  con- 
tinue at  work  on  the  earth  until  "the  kingdoms  of 
this  world  are  become  the  kingdom  of  our  Lord  and 
of  his  Christ,  and  he  shall  reign  for  ever  and  ever." 

It  has  been  thought  by  some,  indeed,  that  as  leaven 
is  generally  —  we  may  even  say  almost  invariably  — 
used  as  a  symbol  of  evil,  we  must  take  this  parable 
as  designed  to  set  before  us  the  progress  of  corruption, 
rather  than  of  regeneration,  in  the  world.  This  view 
has  been  specially  advocated  by  many  brethren  whose 
opinions  regarding  the  second  advent  of  Christ  lead 
them  to  believe  that  things  must  become  worse  and 
worse  upon  the  earth  until  he  shall  personally  appear 
for  their  renewal.  But,  whatever  may  be  said  on  the 
question  whether  the  second  advent  of  Christ  shall  be 
pre-millennial  or  post-millennial,  it  is  absolutely  clear 
to  me,  that  the  leaven  in  this  place  cannot  be  taken  as 
an  emblem  of  evil.  I  admit  that  in  Scripture  and  as  a 
figure  it  is  most  commonly  employed  in  that  sense,  and 
that  the  literal  leaven  was  generally  excluded  from 
offerings  under  the  Mosaic  law.  But  there  was  one 
exception ;  namely,  in  the  case  of  the  two  wave-loaves 
(Lev.  xxiii.  17)  that  formed  part  of  the  offering  of  first- 
fruits  ;  and  it  is  possible  that  in  the  figurative  use  of  the 
term  there  may  be  a  similar  exception  to  the  general 
rule,  in  the  parable  before  us.     For  there  is  no  rigid 


68  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

uniformity  in  the  symbolism  of  the  Bible,  and  some- 
times the  same  thing  is  used  in  different  places  as  an 
emblem  of  different,  I  would  even  say  of  opposite,  per- 
sons or  principles.  Thus,  by  one  sacred  writer  the 
Devil  is  described  as  a  lion,  while  by  another  Christ  is 
spoken  of  as  the  Lion  of  the  tribe  of  Judah  ;  and  in  one 
of  the  Psalms,  a  flourishing  tree  is  used  as  a  symbol  of  a 
righteous  man,  while  in  another  it  is  employed  to  illus- 
trate the  prosperity  of  the  wicked.  If,  therefore,  the 
context  here  seems  to  require  us  to  take  the  leaven  in 
a  sense  different  from  or  even  opposite  to  that  in  which 
as  a  symbol  it  is  generally  used  by  the  sacred  writers, 
we  are  at  perfect  liberty  so  to  do.  And  this,  as  it 
seems  to  me,  is  very  clearly  demanded  of  us,  both  by 
the  terms  of  the  parable  itself,  and  by  its  relation  to 
the  whole  series  of  parables  of  which  here  it  forms  a 
part.  "The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  unto  leaven," 
so  the  words  run  ;  but  is  it  any  true  or  proper  descrip- 
tion of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  to  say  that  evil  will  go 
on  corrupting  the  human  race  until  the  whole  be  cor- 
rupted ?  Was  not  that  the  case,  rather,  before  the  Son 
of  God  came  to  earth  to  found  his  kingdom?  Was  it 
not,  indeed,  the  very  prevalence  of  the  corruption,  that 
necessitated  the  intervention  of  God  in  Christ  to  arrest 
its  progress,  and  overcome  its  influence  ?  To  take  the 
leaven  as  representing  evil,  therefore,  would  make  this 
parable  a  correct  desciiption  of  the  progress  of  the 
kingdom  of  Satan,  and  an  accurate  epitome  of  the  his- 
tory of  the  race,  for  the  most  part,  up  till  the  time  of 
the  coming  of  Christ;  but  it  would  render  it  absurdly 
inaccurate  as  a  delineation  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

But  our  interpretation  is  demanded  also  by  the  rela- 
tion of  this  parable  to  the  others  in  the  series  of  which 
it  is  a  member.     They  all  illustrate,  in  one  way  or  an- 


TEE  MUST  ABB-SEED,   AND   THE  LEAVEN.         59 

other,  the  effect  of  the  preaching  of  Christ  among  men. 
The  good  seed,  alike  in  the  stories  of  the  sower  and  of 
the  tares,  is  the  tvord ;  and,  by  all  the  laws  of  analogy,  it 
should  be  that  also,  which  is  represented  by  the  leaven. 
Moreover,  in  those  parables  here  in  wliich  evil  appears, 
the  good  is  seen  to  be  in  conflict  with  it,  and  is  ulti- 
mately separated  from  it.  Thus  the  tares  were  at  the 
harvest  taken  out  from  among  the  wheat;  and  the  bad 
fish  caught  in  tlie  net  were  taken  out  from  among  the 
good,  and  cast  away.  If,  therefore,  it  had  been  the  Sav- 
iour's purpose  to  illustrate  the  progress  of  evil  in  the 
world  by  this  parable,  we  are  warranted,  from  the  tenor 
of  the  others,  to  conclude  that  he  would  have  repre- 
sented the  leaven  as  in  conflict  with  something  which 
symbolized  his  gospel,  and  as  being  eventually  separated 
from  or  overcome  by  it ;  for  it  cannot  be  that  he  should 
give  any  countenance  to  the  idea,  everywhere  else  repu- 
diated, that  the  gospel  is  to  be  ultimately  vanquished, 
and  that  Satan  is  to  be  left  to  have  universal  and  undis- 
puted dominion  over  the  world. 

Besides,  I  remind  you  of  the  dualism  in  the  arrange- 
ment of  these  parables,  and  ask  if  we  are  not  warranted 
to  expect,  that  in  this  couplet,  composed  of  the  mustard- 
seed  and  the  leaven,  we  have  the  same  subject  looked  at 
from  different  angles,  just  as  we  had  in  those  of  the 
tares  and  the  net,  and  as  we  are  yet  to  have  in  those 
of  the  pearl  of  great  price  and  the  hidden  treasure. 

Nor  is  this  all :  we  must  not  allow  it  to  be  forgotten, 
that  while  in  itself  leaven  is  incipient  corruption,  and 
tlierefore  an  abstractly  evil  thing,  it  is  yet  used  by  the 
housewife  as  a  good  thing  for  her  purpose,  which  pur- 
pose was  also  good ;  namely,  the  production  of  light 
and  Avholesome  bread.  For  the  object  which  the  woman 
had  in  view,  therefore,  the  leaven  was  a  good  thing, 


60  THE  F ARABLES   OF  OUB   SAVIOUB. 

and  may  warrantably  enough  be  taken  as  a  symbol  of 
that  whose  effect  in  the  world  is  beneficial. 

For  these  reasons,  then,  and  without  allowing  our- 
selves to  be  drawn  into  the  discussion  of  millennarian 
theories,  which  have  no  more  to  do  Avith  this  j^arable 
than  with  the  others  in  whose  immediate  connection  it 
is  found,  we  feel  bound  to  take  the  leaven  here  as  a 
symbol  of  the  good,  wholesome,  aggressive  influence 
which  Christ  introduced  into  the  Avorld  when  he  came 
to  earth,  and  lived  and  died,  and  rose  again,  as  the 
Saviour  of  sinners. 

But  here,  too,  we  must  beware  of  running  into  merely 
fanciful  conceits.  We  cannot  press  into  significance  the 
three  measures  of  meal,  as  if  they  denoted  either  the  three 
continents  into  which  the  ancients  divided  the  world 
as  it  was  known  to  them ;  or  the  three  sons  of  Noah,  by 
whose  descendants  the  world  was  peopled  after  the  flood; 
or  the  three  constituent  parts  of  man,  — body,  soul,  and 
spirit :  though  each  of  these  interpretations  has  had  its 
advocates  among  expositors.  The  simple  fact  is,  that 
three  measures  of  meal  was  a  usual  quantity  for  a  single 
home-baking;  and  so  they  are  most  naturally  specified. 

Neither  may  we  extract  any  mystical  meaning  from 
the  circumstance  that  a  woman  put  the  leaven  into  the 
meal,  as  if  thereby  the  Lord  had  designed  to  set  before 
us  either  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  or  the  agency  of 
the  Church  ;  for,  as  Arnot  has  well  remarked,  "-  A  man 
took  the  mustard-seed,  and  sowed  it  in  his  field :  a 
woman  took  the  leaven,  and  hid  it  in  three  measures 
of  meal.  The  two  j^arables  are  in  this  respect  strictly 
parallel :  in  both,  an  ordinary  act  is  performed,  and  in 
each  it  is  performed  by  a  person  of  the  ajipropriate 
sex."  1     The  great  truth  here  illustrated,  then,  is  that 

1  The  Parables  of  Our  Lord,  as  before,  p.  114. 


THE  MUSTARD-SEED,   AND   THE  LEAVEN.         61 

the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  by  his  coming  and  work,  intro- 
duced into  humanity  an  element  which  works  a  change 
on  it,  that  shall  continue  to  operate  until  the  whole  is 
transformed,  —  therein  resembling  leaven,  hidden  by  a 
woman  in  three  measures  of  meal  until  the  whole  was 
leavened. 

Thus  regarded,  some  very  important  things  are  sug- 
gested by  the  parable. 

In  the  first  place,  it  tells  us  that  the  coming  of  Christ 
into  the  world  brought  an  entirely  new  influence  to  bear 
upon  it.  The  leaven  was  not  in  the  meal  by  nature ;  it 
had  to  be  put  into  it.  In  like  manner,  the  gospel  is  not 
a  merely  natural  product.  It  was  not  a  latent  quality 
in  the  heart  of  man,  needing  only  favorable  circum- 
stances fur  its  development.  It  is  not  a  human  inven- 
tion, but  a  divine  remedy  provided  for  the  counteracting 
and  overcoming  of  that  evil  nature  which  is  inherent  in 
the  human  race. 

We  cannot  get  rid  of  the  fact  that  men  are  depraved. 
Explain  it  as  we  may,  there  is  moral  evil  in  the  world. 
Humanity  is  tainted,  and  men  of  themselves  have  never 
been  able  to  eradicate  the  s^jiritual  maladj^  by  which 
they  are  all  alike  afflicted.  So  far  from  that,  they  have 
never  been  able  to  keep  themselves  from  becoming 
worse.  How  suggestive  in  this  regard  are  the  two 
great  visions  to  which  prominence  is  given  in  the  Book 
of  Daniel !  You  remember  how  the  image,  which  had 
its  head  of  gold,  deteriorated,  as  it  descended,  through 
breast  of  silver,  belly  and  thighs  of  brass,  and  legs  of 
iron,  to  feet  part  of  iron  and  part  of  clay.^  You  cannot 
have  forgotten  either,  how,  in  the  vision  of  the  four 
beasts,  there  was  first  the  lion,  then  the  bear,  then  the 

1  Dau.  ii. 


V 


62  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

panther,  and  then  that  huge,  composite,  unnamed  mon- 
ster, with  great  iron  teeth,  devouring  and  breaking  in 
pieces,  and  stamping  the  residue  with  the  feet  of  it.^ 
We  have  heard  a  great  deal  hitely  of  theories  of  devel- 
opment j  and  this  is  neither  the  time  nor  the  place  to 
enter  upon  the  consideration  of  these,  so  far  as  they  are 
used  to  explain  or  account  for  the  present  co-ndition  of 
the  physical  universe.  But,  morally,  the  only  develop- 
ment of  man,  when  left  to  himself,  which  history  has 
seen,  has  been  downwards;  and  the  ancient  civilization, 
as  you  may  see  from  the  writings  of  those  who  have 
described  it,  was  little  better  than  a  veneered  brutality. 
If,  therefore,  the  progress  of  evil  was  to  be  arrested,  and 
men  were  to  be  delivered  from  its  influence,  it  could 
only  be  through  the  introduction  into  the  race  of  some 
agency  from  without,  which,  comii:ig  into  contact  with 
it,  should  purify  and  ennoble  it.  Hence,  in  the  dream 
which  Nebuchadnezzar  saw,  that  was  represented  as  a 
stone  cut  out  of  the  mountain  Avithout  hands ;  and  in 
the  vision  of  Daniel  it  is  referi-ed  to  in  these  words:  "I 
saw  in  the  night  visions,  and,  behold,  one  like  the  Son 
of  man  came  with  the  clouds  of  heaven,  and  came  to 
the  Ancient  of  days,  and  they  brought  him  near  be- 
fore him ;  and  there  was  given  him  dominion,  and 
glory,  and  a  kingdom,  that  all  people,  nations,  and  lan- 
guages should  serve  him :  his  dominion  is  an  everlasting 
dominion,  which  shall  not  pass  away,  and  his  kingdom 
that  which  shall  not  be  destroyed."  And  in  the  para- 
ble before  us,  the  same  thing  is  illustrated  by  the  hiding 
of  the  leaven  in  the  meal.  Left  to  itself,  human  nature, 
bad  to  begin  with,  constantly  deteriorates.  If,  there- 
fore, the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  had  been  only  a  man,  and 
the  product  of  his  age,  he  could  have  done  nothing  to 

1  Ibid.  vii. 


THE  MUSTARD-SEED,   AND   TUE  LEAVEN.        '63 

stop  that  process.  Rather,  following  out  the  law  which 
I  have  specified,  he  would  have  fallen  below  the  age  by 
which  his  was  preceded.  But  he  was  different  from 
other  men,  —  even  the  God-man,  —  and  so,  as  the  leaven 
operated  on  the  meal  because  of  that  active  principle  in 
it  that  was  different  from  the  meal,  Christ,  through  that 
living  power  in  himself  which  was  different  from  all 
other  men,  wrought  on  the  mass  of  mankind  for  its 
transformation  and  assimilation  to  himself.  "By  the 
mystery  of  his  holy  incarnation,  by  his  cross  and  pas- 
sion, by  his  precious  death  and  burial,  by  his  glorious 
resurrection  and  ascension,  and  by  the  coming  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,"  he  introduced  a  new  element  into  human- 
ity, which  has  been  working  for  its  renovation  ever  since. 
His  divine  teaching,  his  spotless  example,  his  atoning 
death,  his  resurrection  life,  and  his  ascension  gifts  re- 
ceived for  men,  and  shed  forth  upon  men,  —  all  combine 
to  make  the  good  news  concerning  him  a  regenerating 
power  in  the  world ;  and  it  is  the  first  preaching  of  this 
good  news  that  is  here  spoken  of  as  the  "  hiding"  of  the 
leaven  in  the  meal. 

How  truly  it  was  "hidden,"  must  be  evident  not  only 
from  the  silence  of  contemporary  historians  regarding 
it,  but  also  from  the  statements  made  by  the  Christian 
apostles  themselves  concerning  the  beginnings  of  their 
work.  Look  at  those  few  Galilean  fishermen  and  peas- 
ants, in  that  upper  room,  surrounding  a  teacher  who, 
within  a  few  hours,  was  to  be  dragged  from  their  fellow- 
ship, and  nailed  to  a  cross.  Hear  him  saying  unto  them, 
"  I  appoint  unto  you  a  kingdom,  as  my  Father  hath  ap- 
pointed unto  me,  that  ye  may  eat  and  drink  at  my  table, 
and  sit  on  thrones,  judging  the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel ;  "  ^ 
and  you  may  see  in  them,  especially  as,  a  few  weeks 

1  Luke  xxil.  29. 


64  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

later,  they  were  clothed  with  the  might  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  the  first  particles  of  the  new  leaven.  Poor,  de- 
spised, contemptible  they  were,  to  human  view ;  and 
thus  they  may  very  fitly  be  spoken  of  as  hidden  in  the 
mass,  which,  through  their  instrumentality,  was  to  be 
permeated  and  transformed. 

II.  But  the  parable  of  the  leaven  suggests,  in  the 
second  place,  that  the  introduction  of  Christ  and  his 
kingdom  into  the  world  works  a  change  upon  the  world. 
The  leaven  assimilates  the  particles  of  the  meal  to  itself. 
So  Christ,  coming  into  contact  with  humanity,  imparts 
to  it  his  own  nature.  When  he  touched  the  leper,  he 
was  not  defiled,  but  he  communicated  his  own  purity 
to  the  diseased  man:  so,  when  he  took  human  nature 
on  him,  he  was  not  thereby  contaminated,  but  he  con- 
veyed healing  to  the  race.  This  is  seen  in  a  very 
striking  way  in  the  history  of  individuals.  Paul,  Au- 
gustine, Luther,  Bunyan,  Newton,  and  many  other 
names,  at  once  leap  to  our  memories  as  illustrations. 
But  it  is  perhaps  more  impressively  illustrated  in  the 
case  of  places.  Look,  for  a  crucial  instance,  at  ancient 
Greece.  Perhaps  tlie  highest  culture  ever  reached 
without  Christianity  was  seen  in  that  classic  land. 
There  were  the  most  mellifluous  language,  the  loftiest 
eloquence,  the  noblest  art,  the  acutest  philosophy,  the 
most  spirit-stirring  poetry  ;  but  what  was  the  condition 
of  the  people  morally  ?  Read  Mr.  Lecky's  "  History  of 
Morals,"  and  he  will  tell  you  that  it  was  a  mass 
of  reeking  rottenness.  All  this  went  on  until  a  man  of 
Tarsus  made  his  appearance,  preaching  the  incarnation 
and  the  cross,  and  pointing  his  hearers  to  "the  Lamb 
of  God,  tliat  taketli  away  the  sin  of  the  world ; "  and 
then  even  in  Corinth,  the  very  capital  of  the  world  s 


THE  MUSTABD-SEED,   AND   THE  LEAVEN.         65 

iniquity,  a  check  was  given  to  the  prevailing  corruption, 
so  that,  after  naming  some  of  the  worst  sorts  of  sinners, 
Paul  could  write  to  the  converts  in  that  city,  "Such 
were  some  of  you ;  but  ye  are  washed,  but  yo  are  sancti- 
fied, in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  by  the  Spirit  of 
our  God."^  Nor  is  that  a  solitary  instance.  It  has 
always  been  so ;  it  is  so  to-day.  It  has  wrought  a 
similar  change  in  Madagascar,  in  Fiji,  and  in  many  of 
the  islands  of  the  Pacific,  and  nearer  home  in  some  of  the 
streets  and  lanes  of  our  own  city.  Indeed,  all  the  cor- 
rective agents  that  are  successfully  at  work  upon  the 
moral  condition  of  humanity,  whether  at  home  or  abroad, 
may  be  traced  up  to  Christ  and  Christianity ;  and  wher- 
ever the  gospel  is  fairly,  honestly,  earnestly,  and  prayer- 
fully tried,  it  is  successful  as  "  the  power  of  God,"  in 
"turning  men  from  darkness  to  light,  and  from  the 
power  of  Satan  unto  God." 

But  this  change,  real  and  assimilating  in  its  nature, 
is  gradual  in  its  progress.  The  leaven  works  on  the 
particles  of  the  mass  next  it,  and  by  transmuting  them 
makes  them  also  leaven,  which  in  its  turn  operates  on 
that  with  which  it  comes  into  contact.  The  change  is 
wrought  in  detail,  and  on  particle  by  particle.  So  Chris- 
tianity regenerates  the  individual,  and  through  him  the 
family,  and,  through  the  aggregate  of  such  families, 
society  at  large.  It  is  not  volcanic  in  its  character, 
working  through  shocks  like  those  of  an  earthquake ; 
but  rather  gradual,  constant,  pervasive,  like  the  opera- 
tion of  the  leaven.  We  have  seen  already  how  it  com- 
menced in  the  adhesion  of  John  and  Andrew  to  Christ ; 
and  if  we  transfer  our  starting-point  to  the  day  of  Pen- 
tecost, we  have  the  same  fact  illustrated.  Beginning 
at  Jerusalem,  it  found  its  earliest  converts  among  the 

1  1  Cor.  vi.  11. 


66  TEE  PARABLES  OF  OUB   SAVIOUR. 

chosen  people  ;  but  very  soon,  led  in  a  way  which  they 
knew  not,  its  disciples  went  to  work  among  the  Gen- 
tiles. After  that  it  was  taken  from  one  centre  of  influ- 
ence to  another,  and  left  to  operate  in  each.  Paul 
"  hid "  it  in  quiet  places  in  Philippi,  Thessalonica, 
Corinth,  Athens,  Rome ;  and  such  was  its  vitality,  that, 
within  a  century  or  two  after  his  martyrdom,  TertuUian 
could  write  to  the  Roman  emperor,  with  perhaps  a  dash 
of  rhetorical  exaggeration,  but  yet  with  substantial 
truth,  "  We  are  but  of  yesterday,  and  we  have  filled 
every  thing  that  is  yours,  —  your  cities,  islands,  free 
towns,  castles,  council-halls,  the  very  camps,  all  classes 
of  men,  the  palace,  the  senate,  and  the  forum.  We  have 
left  you  nothing  but  your  temples.  We  can  outnumber 
your  armies.  There  are  more  Christians  in  a  single 
province  than  men  in  all  your  legions."  It  is  unhappily 
true,  that  in  the  course  of  centuries  Christianity  became 
corrupt,  and  lost  much  of  its  aggressive  and  assimilat- 
ing force ;  but  with  the  era  of  the  Reformation  it  re- 
gained its  power  through  the  recovery  of  its  purity,  and 
with  occasional  times  of  apparent  retrocession  it  has 
been  in  the  main  steadily  advancing  ever  since.  But 
probably  the  greatest  progress  which  it  has  ever  made 
in  the  history  of  the  world  has  been  seen  during  the 
present  century.  Almost  within  the  period  of  two 
generations,  the  Bible  has  been  translated  into  two  hun- 
dred different  languages ;  missionaries  have  gone  to  the 
East  and  to  the  West,  to  the  North  and  to  the  South, 
and  have,  in  many  instances,  already  created  a  new 
civilization  by  their  efforts.  Every  month  is  bringing 
fresh  reports  of  their  success,  and  almost  every  year 
is  opening  up  new  fields  for  their  entrance.  The  Wall 
of  China  has  not  been  able  to  exclude  this  leaven  from 
that  marvellous  empire.     Not  twenty  years  have  elapsed 


THE  MUSTAED-SEED,  AND   TUE  LEAVEN.         G7 

since  Japan  was  open  to  receive  it ;  and  now  the  island 
of  Corea  has  been  entered,  and  we  may  look  for  new 
proofs  of  its  power  in  that  land  which  has  been  so  long 
hermetically  sealed  from  the  outside  world.  With  the 
exception  of  probably  not  more  than  one  or  two  coun- 
tries, all  nations  are  now  open  to  its  missionaries. 
We  could  send  its  preachers  almost  anywhere,  if  we 
had  but  the  men  to  send,  and  the  money  to  sustain 
them.  Shall  we  not,  then,  push  on,  and  see  the  fulfil- 
ment of  the  prediction,  "The  mountain  of  the  Lord's 
house  shall  be  established  in  the  top  of  the  mountains, 
and  all  nations  shall  flow  unto  it "  ? 

For  —  and  this  is  the  last  thought  in  the  parable  — 
the  change  wrought  by  the  introduction  of  Christianity 
into  the  world  is  to  be  universal.  The  leaven  continued 
to  operate  on  the  meal  until  the  whole  was  leavened ; 
and  so  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  are  to  become  the 
kingdom  of  Christ.  Many  attempts  to  set  up  a  univer- 
sal monarchy  by  force  have  been  made,  but  they  have 
all  been  disastrous  failures.  Nebuchadnezzar,  Cyrus, 
Alexander,  Caesar,  Napoleon,  each  in  his  turn  was  am- 
bitious to  subdue  the  world.  But  they  all  lacked  that 
which  was  needful  for  success,  for  force  alone  will  not 
suffice  for  such  an  achievement.  The  cross,  and  not  the 
sword,  is  here  the  conquering  influence.  The  might, 
not  of  one  who  slays,  but  of  One  who  was  slain,  is  here 
the  potent  spell.  Love,  not  violence,  is  the  real  leaven ; 
and  universal  empire  is  to  be  Ilis,  over  whose  cradle 
the  heavenly  host  sang  the  prophetic  anthem,  "  Glory 
to  God  in  the  highest,  peace  on  earth,  and  good-will  to 
men."  To  the  mere  suj)erficial  observer,  indeed,  who 
thinks  of  the  vast  disproportion  now  existing  between 
the  population  of  even  nominally  Christian  lands,  and 
that  of  those  whose  inhabitants  are  Buddhists,  Moham- 


68  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR. 

medans,  and  heathens,  such  an  expectation  may  seem 
little  better  than  a  "  devout  imagination."  But  when 
he  takes  a  wider  sweep,  and  goes  more  deeply  into  the 
matter,  he  may  see  reason  to  alter  his  opinion.  Astron- 
omers calculate  the  orbit  and  period  of  a  planet,  by 
taking  observations  of  it  at  different  and  distant  inter- 
vals ;  and  from  the  comparison  of  these,  they  can 
predict  with  perfect  accuracy  both  the  course  it  will 
follow  and  the  times  which  it  will  keep.  Now,  if  we 
will  take  a  forecast  of  the  future  history  of  the  king- 
dom of  Christ  on  similar  principles,  from  the  past,  we 
shall  be  led  to  regard  the  universal  diffusion  of  the 
gospel  as  among  the  most  certain  of  future  things.  Let 
your  first  observation  be  made  in  the  days  of  Paul, 
your  second  in  the  time  of  Constantine,  your  tliird  in 
the  age  of  the  Reformers,  your  fourth  in  the  generation 
of  the  Wesleys  and  the  Whitefields,  and  your  fifth  at 
tlie  present  hour,  and  you  will  see  reason  to  conclude 
that  if  the  churches  of  Christ  will  but  rise  to  their 
responsibility,  and  seize  their  opportunity,  we  are  not  so 
very  far  as  some  may  suppose  from  the  universal  tri- 
umph of  tlie  gospel.  For  the  greatest  rapidity  in  its 
progress  may  be  expected  at  the  last,  since  every  new 
convert  becomes  a  new  leavening  agent ;  and  so  the 
advancement  must  be  in  a  more  accelerated  ratio  than 
that  either  of  arithmetical  or  of  geometrical  progression. 
Shortly  before  I  came  first  to  this  country,  I  clipped  a 
paragraph  from  an  English  newspaper,  which  told  that 
a  grain  of  wheat  that  had  been  picked  up  by  an 
admirer  of  royalty,  as  it  fell  five  years  before  from  the 
hand  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  had,  by  being  sown,  and 
its  product  sown  again  year  after  year,  brouglit  forth 
within  that  period  as  much  as  could,  in  the  sixth  year, 
be  drilled  into  sixteen  acres  of  land.     Who  can  calcu- 


THE  MUSTARD-SEED,   AND   THE  LEAVEN.         69 

late  how  much  land  might  be  sown  with  its  increase 
now  ?  And  so,  if  we  would  only  catch  as  eagerly  and 
sow  as  diligently  the  seed  that  has  fallen  from  the  hands 
of  Christ,  we  might  soon  be  able,  with  the  fruit  thereof, 
to  cover  the  whole  earth. 

The  sum  of  the  matter,  then,  as  brought  before  us  in 
these  parables,  is  this:  Insignificant  as  the  beginnings  of 
Christianity  were,  the  hope  of  the  world  lies  in  its  dif- 
fusion ;  and  that  result  will  certainly  be  finally  attained. 
It  will  change  the  character  of  the  people  among  whom 
it  is  proclaimed,  and  by  whom  it  is  accepted ;  and  it  will 
go  on  in  its  regenerating  course,  until  "  men  shall  be 
blessed  in  Christ,  and  all  nations  shall  call  him  blessed." 
But  this  diffusion  of  the  gospel  over  the  world  is  to  be 
brought  about  by  the  agency  of  those  who  have  already 
received  it ;  and  to  us  in  this  age,  and  in  this  land,  God 
has  given  the  high  privilege  of  laboring  in  this  benefi- 
cent enterprise.  Shall  we  accept  this  privilege,  or  de- 
cHne  it?  And,  if  we  decline  it,  have  we  ourselves  been 
leavened  ?  These  are  the  questions  which  I  desire  to 
leave  with  you  to-night. 


70  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR. 


V. 

THE   HIDDEN    TREASURE,    AND    THE   PEARL 
OF    GREAT   PRICE. 

(Matt.  xiii.  44r-46.) 

The  parables  are  two,  but  the  subject  illustrated  by 
both  is  the  same.  There  is  indeed  one  point  of  differ- 
ence between  them,  which  will  come  up  as  we  proceed ; 
but  in  the  main  they  both  deal  with  the  intrinsic  pre- 
ciousness  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  and  the  willing- 
hood  with  which  the  individual  man,  when  his  eyes  have 
been  opened  to  perceive  that  preciousness,  sacrifices 
every  thing-  that  is  inconsistent  with  his  possession 
thereof. 

The  incident  described  in  the  former  of  the  two  may 
well  enough  have  been  a  literal  fact.  In  those  ancient 
days,  there  was  little  trade  in  wliich  men  could  embark ; 
no  banks  in  which  they  could  lodge  their  money,  and 
no  safe-deposit  vaults  on  whose  security  they  could 
depend.  It  was  natural,  therefore,  that  they  should 
seek  to  preserve  their  savings  by  hiding  them  in  some 
secret  place ;  and  so  they  very  commonly  buried  them 
in  the  earth.  It  often  happened,  however,  that,  when  a 
man  had  thus  concealed  his  treasure,  the  secret  of  the 
place  into  which  he  had  put  it  died  with  himself,  so 
that  it  remained  concealed  until  some  lucky  discoverer 
stumbled  unexpectedly  upon  it.  For  the  times  were  un- 
settled ;  and  a  sudden  invasion  of  enemies  might  lead 


THE  TBEASURE  AND  THE  PEARL.  71 

many  to  hide  their  riches  in  the  ground,  and  flee  for 
their  lives,  in  the  hope  —  ahis  !  too  often  disappointed  — 
that  they  woukl  soon  return  and  recover  them.  Thus 
it  was,  as  Guthrie  ^  has  quaintly  put  it,  tliat  "  the  earth 
became  a  bank  in  which  was  accumulated,  during  the 
course  of  ages,  a  vast  amount  of  unclaimed  deposits." 
On  such  a  "  treasure,"  the  man  described  in  the  parable 
accidentally  came,  when  he  was,  perhaps,  engaged  in 
some  common  and  ordinary  pursuit.  Then,  having  sat- 
isfied himself  of  its  value,  he  obliterated  all  traces  of 
his  discovery ;  and,  without  making  any  one  aware 
of  his  motive,  he  sold  all  that  he  had,  in  order  that  he 
might  buy  the  field  wherein  he  had  made  his  "  find." 

In  the  second  of  the  parables,  we  see  a  travelling 
merchant  pursuing  his  regular  business  as  a  dealer  in 
pearls,  which  he  bought  and  sold  for  purposes  of  gain. 
He  was  no  mere  jewel-fancier  hunting  for  rare  and  val- 
uable gems  which  he  might  put  into  his  collection,  but 
a  merchant  whose  trade  was  in  pearls;  and,  finding  one 
of  surpassing  value,  he  went  and  sold  all  that  he  had, 
and  bought  it,  congratulating  himself  the  while  that  he 
had  made  a  splendid  investment. 

Thus  each  of  these  men  discovered  that  which  he 
accounted  of  supreme  value,  and  took  means  to  obtain 
it  for  himself.  The  one  came  upon  it,  as  it  were,  by 
accident ;  and  the  other  found  it  as  he  was  prosecuting 
that  which  he  had  made  the  business  of  his  life.  Therein 
they  differed  from  each  other ;  but  so  soon  as  the  discov- 
ery was  made,  each  took  earnest  measures  to  make  the 
good  thing  which  he  had  found  his  own,  and  therein 
they  were  alike.  Now,  the  Saviour  says  that  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  is  like  them  both.  In  what  precisely, 
then,  does  the   resemblance  consist?     The  question  is 

1  The  Parables  of  Christ,  by  Thomas  Guthrie,  D.D.,  p.  152. 


72  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

important :  and  we  may  perhaps  give  the  best  answer 
to  it  by  seeking  to  show,  first,  what  the  parables  do 
not  teach ;  and,  second,  what  the  truths  are  which  they 
•were  specially  intended  to  illustrate. 

The  treasure,  and  the  pearl  of  great  price,  both  rep- 
resent salvation  through  Jesus  Christ,  which,  rightly 
estimated,  is  "  more  to  be  desired  than  gold,  yea,  much 
fine  gold."  Itjbrings  to  us  what  money  cannot  buy; 
namely,  forgiveness  of  sins,  and  regeneration  of  char- 
acter. It_ imparts  to  us  what  riches  cannot  secure; 
namely,  happiness  of  heart.  It  is,  in  itself,  a  possession 
which  moth  cannot  corrupt,  and  no  thief  can  steal.  It 
is  an  abiding  joy,  valuable  not  only  to  him  who  has  it, 
but  also,  in  a  very  important  sense,  to  all  with  whom  he 
comes  into  contact.  It  is,  in  a  word,  the  chief  good, 
the  "  one  thing  needful, "  the  great  end  to  which  all 
earthly  goods,  even  at  their  best,  are  but  as  means, 
and  must  be  utterly  and  entirely  subordinated. 

So  far  all  is  clear.  But  no  analogy  will  hold  at  every 
point,  and  we  shall  make  the  wildest  work  in  our  exposi- 
tion, even  of  the  Saviour's  parables,  if  Ave  attempt  to 
run  the  parallel  through  in  every  particular.  Let  us 
carefully  note,  therefore,  what  those  things  in  these 
parables  are,  which  must  not  be  pressed  into  spiritual 
significance. 

Observe,  then,  in  the  first  place,  that  they  do  not 
teach  that  the  blessing  of  salvation  through  Christ  is 
confined  to  any  one  particular  enclosure.  This  treasure 
could  not  have  been  found  anywhere  else  than  in  that 
special  field,  and  so  many  have  attempted  to  limit  the 
possibility  of  obtaining  salvation  to  one  particular  place. 
It  has  been  alleged,  for  example,  that  the  field  here  is 


THE  TEE  A  SURE  AND*  THE  PEARL.  73 

tlie_church ;  and  from  that  assertion  the  inference  has 
been  drawn,  that  men  can  find  salvation  only  in  the 
church.  Now,  I  do  not  undervalue  the  organization  of 
the  visible  Church.  It  is  Christ's  own  ordinance,  and 
as  such  we  ought  to  give  it  all  the  importance  which 
he  has  attached  to  it.  It  is,  indeed,  indispensable  for 
the  edification  of  its  own  members,  for  the  maintenance 
of  gospel  ordinances,  and  for  the  diffusion  of  the  gospel 
at  home  and  abroad.  All  efforts  for  the  attainment  of 
these  ends,  which  are  put  forth  outside  of  the  church, 
and  independently  of  it,  are  in  their  nature  sporadic 
and  ephemeral,  lacking  that  element  of  permanence 
which  Christ  declared  tliat  his  Church  should  j)ossess, 
when  he  said  that  "the  gates  of  Hades  should  not 
prevail  against  it."  For  all  these  objects,  therefore,  I 
magnify  the  church.  But  to  say  that  is  one  thing,  and 
to  limit  salvation  to  connection  with  the  church  is  quite 
another.  Yet  that  is  done  by  those  who  associate  re- 
generation with  baptism,  and  affirm  that  he  who  par- 
takes of  the  Lord's  Supper  is  ipso  facto  Christianized. 
But  the  truth,  as  many  passages  of  Scripture  attest,  is 
just  the  reverse.  A  man  becomes  connected  with  the 
church  through  his  union  to  Christ:  he  does  not  become 
united  to  Christ  through  his  connection  with  the  church. 
Christ  is  the  door ;  through  him,  men  enter  into  the 
church.  They  pass,  as  already  saved,  into  its  courts  ; 
and,  therefore,  it  will  not  do  to  say  that  salvation  is  to 
be  found  alone  within  its  pale. 

Others  have  affirmed  that  JJie_field  here  represents 
tlifi  ,T>iblc,  and  they  have  alleged  that  it  is  only  by  dig- 
ging diligently  into  its  depths  that  men  can  discover 
the  priceless  treasure  of  salvation.  Now,  I  can  not,  I 
dare  not,  speak  disparagingly  of  that  Book,  the  sev- 
eral parts  of  which  were  given  through  "holy  men  of 


74  THE  PAR  ABBES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

old,"  who  "  spake  as  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy 
Ghost."  It  is  in  itself  a  treasure  "  better  than  gold  or 
silver,"  and  multitudes  have  found  Christ  and  his  salva- 
tion through  the  study  of  its  pages.  But  still  it  is  not 
true  that  salvation  is  possible  only  for  those  who  have 
that  book  in  their  possession.  Many  were  saved,  through 
him,  before  at  least  the  New-Testament  portion  of  it 
was  reduced  to  writing  at  all ;  and  multitudes  still  are 
saved  to  whom  faith  has  come  by  hearing  rather  than 
by  reading.  We  cannot,  therefore,  accept  the  view  of 
those  who  would  identify  even  the  Sacred  Scriptures 
with  the  field  which  contained  the  hidden  treasure. 
The  truth  is,  that  salvation  always  comes  through  faith 
in  Jesus  Christ ;  and  wherever  one  is '  confronted  with 
him,  and  has  his  eyes  opened  to  the  perception  of  his 
"  unsearchable  riches,"  that  to  him  is  what  the  field  was 
to  the  man  who  found  the  treasure  in  it.  It  may  be  the 
reading  of  the  Scriptures  ;  or  the  hearing  of  a  faithful 
discourse  in  the  sanctuary ;  or  the  perusal  of  a  book 
which  he  has  taken  up  for  quite  another  purpose  than 
to  find  salvation  in  it ;  or  a  conversation  with  a  fellow- 
man  in  some  casual  interview ;  or  the  shock  of  some 
terrible  calamity  under  which 

"  The  light  of  sense 
Went  out,  but  with  a  flash  that  has  revealed 
The  invisible  world." 

But,  in  whatsoever  connection  it  is  that  a  man  first 
discovers  Christ,  and  has  a  glimpse  of  his  salvation,  that 
to  him  is  the  field  of  the  former  of  these  parables,  and 
the  coming  on  the  pearl  of  great  price  of  the  latter.  A 
glorious  opportunity  with  infinite  possibilities  of  spirit- 
ual blessing  through  Christ  in  it,  — that,  anywhere,  is  the 
coming  on  the  treasure  in  the  field,  or  the  meeting  of 


TBE  TEE  A  SURE  AND  •THE  PEARL.  75 

the  man  who  has  the  priceless  pearl ;  and  the  determi- 
nation, at  any  sacrifice,  to  embrace  that  opportunity 
and  improve  it,  is  the  selling  of  all  he  has  to  buy  it. 

Now,  when  we  have  got  to  this  apprehension  of  the 
case,  it  is  easy  to  see,  in  the  second  place,  that  these 
parables  are  not  to  be  construed  as  teaching  that  salva- 
tion is  a  thing  which  a  man  can  buy.  "  It  cannot  be 
gotten  for  gold."  That  is  now  one  of  the  simplest  com- 
monplaces of  the  pulpit.  But  it  was  not  so  always. 
We  cannot  forget  Tetzel  and  his  drum,  though  Luther 
so  effectually  silenced  the  one,  and  made  a  hole  in  the 
top  of  the  other.  There  was  a  time  when  indulgences 
were  sold  for  money,  and  men  could  buy  what  Chaucer 
called  "pardons  come  from  Rome  all  hot."  But  it  is 
not  needful  now  that  I  should  expose  the  hollowness  of 
all  such  pretensions ;  for  there  is  little  danger,  I  should 
hope,  of  any  one  of  you  supposing  that  you  can  buy 
salvation  as  you  would  a  jewel  or  a  piece  of  land. 
More  insidious  by  far  is  the  temptation  to  imagine 
that  we  can  deserve  it  by  our  deeds.  But  that  also  is  a 
delusion.  For  even  a  perfect  deed  has  no  merit  in  it  to 
atone  for  sin ;  and,  besides,  salvation,  being  not  a  con- 
dition of  security  only,  but  also  and  mainly  a  charac- 
ter, cannot  be  obtained  in  any  such  way.  It  is  not  a 
commodity  outside  of  the  man,  which  he  can  transfer 
to  himself  ready-made  by  purchase :  it  is  a  nature 
within  him,  and  that  can  be  imparted  and  fostered  only 
by  God.  But  how  can  we  purchase  that,  or  any  thing 
else,  from  him?  What  can  we  offer  to  him,  that  is  not 
already  mortgaged  to  him  ?  Hence,  if  we  are  ever  to  be 
saved,  it  must  be  by  grace  ;  and,  whatever  else  the  pur- 
chase of  the  field  and  the  pearl  may  signify,  it  cannot 
mean  that  it  is  possible  for  us  to  buy  from  God,  the 
regeneration  of  our  souls. 


76  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

But  still  again,  thirdly,  we  must  not  suppose  that  the 
parable  of  the  finding  of  the  hidden  treasure^^coiinsels 
concealment  in  the  matter  of  our  salvation,  or  teaches 
that  the  discovery  of  it  in  Christ  is  a  thing  whicli  any 
one  needs  hide.  When  this  man  first  saw  the  treasure, 
he  covered  it  up  again,  lest  any  one  should  discover  the 
value  of  the  field,  and  outbid  him  in  its  purchase ;  and 
then,  having  made  all  his  preparations,  he  went  and 
bouorht  the  land.  In  all  this  he  acted  like  a  shrewd 
and  unscrupulous  man  of  the  world,  and  a  great  deal  of 
unnecessary  discussion  has  been  carried  on  over  his  con- 
duct. But  it  is  not  in  this  part  of  his  procedure  that 
the  point  of  the  parable  is  to  be  found;  and,  in  employ- 
ing his  eagerness  to  get  possession  of  the  field,  for  the 
purpose  of  illustrating  the  earnestness  with  which  the 
true  convert  gives  up  every  tiling  that  is  inconsistent 
with  his  possession  of  salvation,  we  are  not  to  sujopose 
that  our  Lord  meant  to  express  approval  of  his  conceal- 
ment of  his  discovery  from  him  to  whom,  of  right,  the 
property  belonged.  According  to  the  Jewish  law,  all 
such  "  treasure  trove  "  rightfully  belonged  to  the  man  on 
whose  land  it  was  found ;  and  so  the  clear  duty  of  the 
finder  was  to  give  to  the  owner  notice  of  that  which 
he  had  discovered.  Without  any  hesitation,  therefore, 
I  condemn  that  part  of  his  conduct,  even  as  I  condemn 
the  dishonesty  of  the  unjust  steward,  and  the  stolidness 
of  the  unjust  judge.  The  analogy  of  the  parable,  how- 
ever, does  not  turn  on  that,  but  rather  on  the  joyful 
readiness  with  which  he  gave  up  every  thing  in  order 
to  get  possession  of  that  which  he  knew  to  be  worth 
far  more  than  all  he  had.  And,  therefore,  we  must  not 
imagine  that  there  is  any  deep  spiritual  meaning  in  his 
hiding  of  the  treasure  again,  after  he  had  first  discov- 
ered it :  least  of  all  must  we  suppose  that  it  enjoins,  or 


THE  TEEASUEE  AND   THE  PEAEL.  11 

even  recommends,  the  convert  to  conceal  his  joy  in  his 
finding:  of  salvation  through  Jesus  Christ.  JNlen  hide 
that  of  which  they  are  ashamed,  but  why  should  we  be 
ashamed  of  Jesus  and  his  salvation  ?  Reason  good  has 
he  to  be  ashamed  of  us,  but  surely  we  need  never  hang 
our  heads  for  him.  INlen  hide  that  which  they  are  afraid 
of  losing,  or  of  having  stolen  from  them.  But  who  can 
deprive  us  of  that  which  is  within  us  ?  Our  fellow-men 
can  obtain  the  same  blessing  without  taking  from  us  the 
least  degree  of  its  enjoyment.  Why,  then,  should  we 
conceal  it  from  them?  Moreover,  no  man  has  any 
exclusive  property  in  salvation.  Who  can  bottle  up 
the  sunshine,  or  seek  to  keep  that  from  his  neighbor? 
Equally  vain  it  is  for  any  one  to  think  that  he  can 
keep  salvation  all  to  himself.  Indeed,  if  any  such  ideas 
enter  his  mind,  it  becomes  a  question  whether  he  has 
himself  been  saved  at  all.  For  even  as,  when  Jesus  of 
old  came  to  a  village,  it  is  written  that  "  he  could  not 
be  hid,"  so,  when  his  salvation  comes  into  a  heart,  it 
connot  be  buried  or  concealed  there.  No,  it  will  make 
the  eye  sparkle  with  an  unwonted  brightness.  It  will 
irradiate  the  countenance  with  a  light  divine,  "that  never 
was  on  sea  or  shore."  It  will  pervade  the  conversation 
with  a  new  and  gracious  seasoning.  It  will  transfigure 
the  conduct  with  a  glory  akin  to  that  of  the  Master, 
when  the  white  lustre  of  his  deity  shone  through  the 
fleshly  veil  of  his  humanity  on  the  brow  of  Hermon. 
Hide  this  treasure !  One  may  as  well  seek  to  confine 
the  irrepressible  force  of  steam,  as  to  prevent  that  new 
life  which  Christ  puts  within  the  heart,  from  making 
itself  seen  or  felt  wherever  the  man  is.  Evermore, 
like  Peter,  he  will  have  to  say,  "  we  cannot  but  speak ; " 
and,  as  in  the  case  of  Paul,  Ihere  will  be  a  "necessity" 
on  him  which  will  impel  him  to  give  it  expression.     If 


78  THE  P ARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

it  can  be  hidden,  it  has  not  come  from  Christ,  and  is 
not  genuine.  If  it  be  from  him,  it  will  reveal  itself  at 
the  cost  of  any  sacrifice,  and  in  spite  of  any  obstacle. 

So  much  for  the  negative  side  of  my  subject.  Now- 
let  us  turn  to  the  consideration  of  the  positive,  and  see 
if  we  can  bring  out  what  these  parables  were  really 
meant  to  teach. 

And  here,  in  the  first  place,  we  may  observe  that 
they  illustrate  the  different  ways  in  which  men  come 
to  the  discovery  of  the  greatness  of  the  salvation  that 
is  in  Christ  Jesus.  We  can  see  a  clear  distinction 
between  this  man,  who,  when  he  was  not  looking  for 
any  thing  of  the  kind,  came  upon  the  treasure  in  the 
field,  and  the  merchant  whose  business  it  was  to  seek 
for  goodly  pearls,  and  who,  having  found  in  the  course 
of  his  search  a  certain  pearl  of  great  price,  took  means 
/  to  possess  himself  of  that.  The  former  is  an  instance 
verifying  the  prophet's  words,  "  I  am  found  of  them  that 
sought  me  not :  "  the  latter  is  an  illustration  of  the  truth 
of  the  promise,  "  those  that  seek  me  earnestly  shall  find 
me ; "  and  always,  in  the  history  of  the  Church,  there 
have  been  cases  in  abundance  of  both  kinds.  The  woman 
of  Samaria  who  went  out  on  her  ordinary  errand  to  the 
well,  and  found  Christ  and  his  salvation  there,  is  an  ex- 
ample of  the  one  :l  NicodemusJ  who  came  as  a  genuine 
truth-seeker  to  Jesus,  by  night,  is  a  specimen  of  the 
other.  Zacchseus,  who  went  out  from  curiosity  to  see 
the  prophet  of  Nazareth,  belonged  to  the  former  class ; 
and  the  Ethiopian  treasurer,  who  was  studying  the 
prophecies  of  Isaiah  when  Philip  came  to  give  him 
.  instruction  in  their  meaning,  must  be  numbered  with 
the  latter.  Paul  on  his  way  to  Damascus,  breathing  out 
threatenings  and  slaughter  against  the  disciples  of  the 


THE   TREASURE  AND   THE  PEARL.  79 

Lord,  but  confronted  by  the  Christ  with  the  question, 
"  Why  persecutest  thou  me  ?  "  must  be  enrolled  in  the 
former ;  and  the  noble  pereans,  who  searched  the  Scrip- 
tures daily,  find  their  place  in'  the  latter.  The  careless 
sinner,  engrossed  in  worldly  business  or  earthly  pleas- 
ure, until  all  at  once,  he  knows  not  how,  his  eyes  are 
opened  "  to  see  the  invisible,"  is  represented  by  the  one : 
the  anxious  inquirer,  earnestly  seeking  for  something 
that  shall  raise  him  above  himself,  and  resting  not  until 
he  finds  that  in  Christ,  is  represented  by  the  other. 

Now,  this  presentation  of  the  case  suggests  two  or 
three  practical  applications  which  find  their  fitting  place 
just  here.  It  is  fraught,'^  ^i  the  first  place,  with  encour- 
agement to  the  genuine  seeker.  If  God  is  thus  so  good 
sometimes  to  those  who  are  not  seeking,  much  more  will 
he  keep  his  word  to  those  who  are.  So  let  me  urge 
them  to  persevere  with  earnest  diligence  and  ardent 
prayer.  In  the  very  eagerness  of  your  search,  you  have 
already  begun  to  find.  Your  sincerity  is  the  prophecy 
of  your  success.  Yea,  who  knows  but  you  may  find  the 
goodly  pearl  now,  as  I  assure  you  that  Jesus  is  here 
willing  and  waiting  to  be  gracious  unto  you?  Hearken 
to  these  words  of  his  own :  "  Wherefore  do  ye  spend 
money  for  that  which  is  not  bread,  and  your  labor  for 
that  which  satisfieth  not  ?  Hearken  diligently  unto  me, 
and  eat  ye  that  which  is  good,  and  let  your  soul  delight 
itself  in  fatness.  Incline  your  ear,  and  come  unto  me  ; 
hear,  and  your  soul  shall  live."  ^ 

But  to  those  who  have  not  been  seeking,  there  is  here 
also  a  lesson  of  importance.  There  may  be  some  such 
with  us  in  this  place  now.  They  may  have  come  hither, 
perhaps,  with  no  definite  purpose.  They  may  be  here 
only  to  pass  an  hour  or  two  in  a  day  that  is  always  a 

1  Isa.  Iv.  2. 


80  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

weariness  to  them.  Possibly  they  may  have  come  simply 
to  oblige  a  friend,  or  to  gratify  some  curiosity  about  the 
preacher.  The  last  thing  they  were  dreaming  of  Avas 
their  salvation.  And,  lo!  here  in  this  description  of 
themselves,  this  telling  them  of  "  all  things  that  ever 
they  did,"  this  setting  before  them  of  the  sublime  real- 
ities of  salvation  as  of  infinitely  greater  moment  than 
all  the  best  things  of  earth,  they  feel  themselves  con- 
fronted with  Christ,  and  have  their  eyes  opened,  as  they 
cannot  doubt  by  God's  own  Spirit,  to  the  transcendent 
importance  of  their  eternal  interests.  O  friends !  this, 
this  is  the  field  in  which  you  have  come  upon  your 
"  trove."  I  rede  you,  therefore,  to  beware  how  you  deal 
with  your  opportunity,  and  I  beseech  you  not  to  let  it 
pass  without  securing  the  treasure.  See  that,  like  Paul, 
you  apprehend  that  for  which  you  are  now  apprehended 
of  him. 

But  think  again,  not  every  man  comes  unexpectedly 
upon  such  a  "  find  "  as  this  man  discovered.  Not  every 
careless  sinner  is  thus  casually  confronted  by  Christ. 
Therefore  be  not  tempted  —  you  whose  hearts  have  not 
yet  been  moved — to  go  on  as  you  have  been  doing, 
in  the  vague  expectation  that  something  like  the  history 
of  the  Samaritan  woman  will  be  repeated  in  your  case. 
You  have  no  right  to  expect  any  thing  of  the  kind. 
The  promise  is  only  to  the  seeker:  therefore  give  up 
your  carelessness,  and  begin  your  search. 

Passing  now  to  another  point,  I  remark,  in  the  second 
place,  that  these  parables  may  fairly  teach  us_  thatsalva- 
tion  is  a  matter  of  individual  appropriation.  This  man 
in  the  field  was  not  content  merely  with  seeing  the 
treasure,  and  the  merchant  was  not  satisfied  simply 
with  looking  on  the  pearl :  neither  of  them  rested  until 
he  had  made  the  prize  his  own.     And,  in  like  manner, 


THE   TREASURE,   AND   THE  PEARL.  81 

salvation  is  not  a  blessing  to  me  until  I  have  accepted 
it  on  Chris^§_Jerms,  We  are  not  saved  in  the  gross ; 
but  the  Lord  Jesus  deals  with  us  each  alone,  and  each 
must  decide  for  himself  what  he  will  do  in  the  premises. 
My  appropriation  of  his  grace  will  not  avail  for  you, 
neither  will  yours  avail  for  me.  Each  here  must  an- 
swer for  himself.  Only  that  which  I  make  my  own  can 
be  to  me  a  treasure ;  and  Scripture  everywhere  insists 
on  the  necessity  of  this  appropriation  of  Christ,  in 
order  to  salvation.  It  is  indeed  the  truth  that  under- 
lies all  its  symbolic  references  to  Christ.  Thus,  Jesus  is 
the  bread  of  life ;  but  he  is  of  no  more  avail  to  me,  with- 
out my  faith  in  him,  than  bread  is  unless  I  eat  it.  He 
is  the  water  of  life ;  but  He  is  of  no  more  value  to  me 
without  my  acceptance  of  him  by  faith,  than  water  is 
unless  I  drink  it.  He  is  the  light  of  the  world ;  but  he 
will  do  me  no  more  good,  without  my  believing  reception 
of  him  into  my  heart,  than  the  light  will  unless  I  open 
my  shutters  to  admit  it  into  my  room.  He  is  only  a 
Saviour,  or  at  most  the  Saviour,  until  I  believe  in  him : 
when  I  believe  in  him,  he  becomes  my  Saviour.  This 
appropriation,  therefore,  it  is  that  is  here  symbolized 
by  purchase.  We  make  Christ  our  own  by  believing  in 
him,  and  giving  up  every  thing  that  is  inconsistent  with 
our  possession  of  him,  as  really  as  this  merchant  made 
the  pearl  his  own  by  buying  it.  This  is  vital,  essential, 
indispensable.  If  the  anchor  do  not  reach  the  bottom, 
it  might  as  well  never  have  been  droj)ped,  and  there  is 
in  such  a  case  practically  no  bottom.  If  the  drowning 
man  will  not  seize  the  rope,  it  might  as  well  never  have 
been  thrown  to  him,  and  there  is  for  him  practically  no 
rope.  In  like  manner,  if  we  will  not  believe  in  Jesus, 
and  give  him  the  place  which  he  demands  as  Lord  and 
Sovereign  of  our  hearts  and  lives,  there  might  as  well 


82  THE  PABABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUB. 

for  lis  have  been  no  Saviour  ;  for  be  is  not  our  Saviour. 

0  sinner !  will  you  not  make  the  Saviour  yours  now,  by 
resigning  yourself,  your  all,  to  him,  and  accepting  him 
as  your  only  Saviour  and  Sovereign  ? 

But  finally  here,  these  parables  teach  us  that  the 
perception  of  the  value  of  salvation  in  Christ  makes  a 
man  happy  to  part  with  every  thing  that  is  inconsistent 
with  its  possession.  The  merchant  made  a  good  invest- 
ment when  he  bought  the  pearl,  even  at  such  a  price. 
He  was  getting  more  than  he  gave.  And  the  finder  of 
the  treasure  had  no  sadness  in  his  heart  when  he  sold 
all  that  he  had  to  buy  the  field.  Herein,  indeed,  —  in 
this  "  for  joy  thereof,"  of  which  multitudes  lose  sight, 
which  perhaps  the  vast  majority  of  readers  never  see,  — 
\  is  the  gem.  of  the  parable  of  the  hidden  treasure  ;  and,  if 

1  might,  T  would  fain  set  it  sparkling  and  prominent  in 
the  ring  of  my  discourse.  This  man  did  not  regret  the 
selling  of  all  that  he  had  for  the  purchase  of  the  field. 
He  did  not  go  round  whimpering  about  the  sacrifice  he 
was  making,  or  the  self-denial  he  was  practising.  He 
gave  much,  but  he  got  far  more ;  and  the  joy  of  the 
getting  swallowed  up  and  into  itself  the  pain  of  the 
giving.  Now,  in  this  it  is,  that  he  truly  resembles 
the  genuine  Christian  convert.  You  remember  how 
the  young  ruler  "  went  away  sorrowful,"  wedded  to  his 
possessions  ;  and  here  w^e  have  the  true  explanation  of 
his  making  "  the  great  refusal."  He  had  no  adequate 
conception  of  the  value  of  Christ  and  his  salvation.  He 
saw  not  the  infinite  unsearchableness  of  the  riches  that 
are  hidden  in  Christ.  If  he  had,  there  would  have  been 
no  hesitation  in  his  heart,  but  "/or /o?/  thereof"  he 
would  have  parted  with  every  thing  that  stood  in  the 
way  of  his  making  them  his  own.     Do  not  imagine  that 

J      in  saying  this  I  am  in  any  way  exaggerating.     Look  at 


THE   TBEASUBE,   AND   THE  PEAJtL.  83 

Paul.  We  have  seen  how  he,  like  this  man,  came  upon 
his  treasure  "  in  the  field."  Now  hear  how  he  appreci- 
ated it.  Men  standing  outside  of  him,  and  seeing  only 
what  he  gave  up,  might  call  him  a  fool ;  but  in  sober 
truth,  even  when  tried  by  a  purely  commercial  stand- 
ard, he  was  a  wise  and  far-seeing  spiritual  merchant. 
Thus  he  speaks  :  "  What  things  were  gain  to  me,  those 
I  counted  loss  for  Christ.  Yea,  doubtless,  and  I  count 
all  things  but  loss  for  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge 
of  Christ  Jesus  my  Lord."  Here  is  no  regretful  look 
upon  the  past,  no  grudging  of  what  he  had  given  up, 
no  chafing  under  what  men  would  call  self-denial ;  but 
rather  a  rejoicing  over  the  super-excellency  of  the 
knowledge  of  Christ.  We  see  the  same  thing  at  a  later 
day  in  Augustine,  when  describing  the  crisis  of  his  con- 
version, and  how  easy  he  found  it,  through  tins  joy, 
to  give  up  all  those  })leasures  of  sin  which  he  had  long 
dreaded  to  be  obliged  to  renounce,  which  had  long  held 
him  fast  bound  in  the  chains  of  evil  custom,  and  which 
if  he  renounced,  it  had  seemed  to  him  that  life  would 
not  be  worth  the  living,  he  exclaims,  "  How  sweet  did  it 
at  once  become  to  me,  to  want  the  sweetness  of  those 
toys !  and  what  I  feared  to  be  parted  from  was  now  a 
joy  to  part  with.  For  thou  didst  cast  them  forth  from 
me,  thou  true  and  highest  sweetness.  Thou  castedst 
them  forth,  and,  for  them,  enteredst  in  thyself,  sweeter 
than  all  pleasures." ' 

Thus,  my  brethren,  that  which  to  the  eye  of  the 
woi4dling,  looking  from  without,  seems  in  the  Christian 
to  be  self-denial  and  self-sacrifice,  is,  in  the  experience 
of  the  Christian  himself,  supreme  satisfaction  with  the 
Lord  Jesus.  His  old  com])anions  pity  him  because,  to 
their  thinking,  he  has  had  to  give  up  so  much ;  but  he 

1  Trench  on  tUc  Parables,  pp.  124, 125.. 


84  THE  PABABLES  OF  OUB   SAVIOUB. 

is  inwardly  rejoicing  that  he  has  gained  so  much  more. 
The  man  who  is  wedded  to  the  world  considers  that  the 
Christian  life  is  a  poor,  humdrum  affair,  and  pities  the 
victim,  who,  as  he  phrases  it,  has  to  say  of  this  and  that 
form  of  worldly  pleasure,  "  I  cannot  go  into  it."  But 
the  Christian  himself  has  no  longer  any  joy  in  such 
thihgs,  by  reason  of  the  joy  that  excelleth  which  he 
has  in  Christ.  He  thinks  not  of  sacrifice  in  regard  to 
them,  for  he  has  ceased  to  relish  them.  With  him,  it  is 
not  "  I  cannot  go,"  but,  rather,  "  1  have  no  desire  to  goT 
These  things  are  nothing  to  him  now,  because  Christ 
and  his  salvation  are  so  much  more  than  these  ever 
were.  It  is  no  sacrifice  to  the  matron  mother,  with  her 
baby  in  her  arms,  to  give  up  the  doll  that  charmed  her 
as  a  little  girl ;  and  in  the  same  way,  it  is  no  sacrifice 
to  the  Christian  to  part  with  the  myriad  shams  of  happi- 
ness which  the  world  jiursues,  since  God  in  Christ  has 
put  the  divine  reality  within  his  heart.  Spare  your  pity, 
then,  ye  votaries  of  the  world.  The  Christian  has 
"  meat  to  eat  that  ye  know  not  of ;  "  for,  in  the  serene 
altitude  of  his  fellowship  with  God,  he  does  not  miss 
the  paltry  pleasures  of  which  you  make  so  much. 

And  if  there  be  any  here  who  are  saying  within  their 
hearts,  "  I  would  become  a  Christian,  but  there  is  so 
much  that  I  must  give  up,"  may  God  open  their  eyes 
to  the  perception  of  the  real  treasure  that  is  in  Christ ; 
and  then,  when  they  have  made  the  sacrifice,  they,  too, 
will  admit  that  the  compensations  of  discipleship  are 
infinitely  greater  than  all  that  they  have  abjured.  I 
cannot  j^rove  that  to  them  by  demonstration.  It  can 
be  known  only  by  experience  ;  but  from  our  own  trial 
of  it,  there  are  multitudes  of  us  who  affirm  that  it  has 
been  so.  I  ask  them,  therefore,  to  have  such  faith  in 
us  as  to  make  the  sacrifice  on  our  showing.     IMay  God 


THE   TREASURE,  AND   THE  PEARL.  85 

even  now  reveal  to  you  the  riches  of  his  grace  in  Christ, 
and  move  you  at  this  moment  to  make  the  great  ac- 
ceptance, that,  like  the  good  Ethiopian,  you,  too,  may 
go  on  your  way  rejoicing;  and  it  will  not  be  long  until 
you  come  back  exclaiming,  "  The  half  had  not  been  told 
us.  Now  we  believe,  not  because  of  your  saying,  but 
because  we  have  heard  him  ourselves,  and  know  that 
this  is  indeed  the  Saviour  of  the  world." 


86  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUE  SAVIOUB. 


VI. 

THE    UNMERCIFUL    SERVANT. 

(Matt.  xvui.  23-35. J 

The  key  to  the  interpretation  of  this  parable  hangs 
upon  the  door  through  which  we  enter  on  its  perusal. 
The  Lord  had  been  speaking  on  the  duty  of  dealing 
tenderly  with  "  the  little  ones  "  of  his  kingdom,  and 
was  led  thereby  to  treat  of  the  manner  in  which  his 
disciples  should  conduct  themselves  towards  those  who 
had  trespassed  against  them.  His  injunction  was  to 
this  effect :  "  If  thy  brother  shall  trespass  against  thee, 
go  and  tell  him  his  fault  between  thee  and  him  alone  : 
if  he  shall  hear  thee,  thou  hast  gained  thy  brother. 
But  if  he  will  not  hear  thee,  then  take  with  thee  one  or 
two  more,  that  in  the  mouth  of  two  or  three  witnesses 
every  word  may  be  established.  And  if  he  shall  neg- 
lect to  hear  them,  tell  it  unto  the  church;  but  if  he 
neglect  to  hear  the  church,  let  him  be  unto  thee  as  a 
heathen  man  and  a  publican."  ^  Thereby,  as  is  quite 
plain,  he  laid  the  responsibility  for  seeking  a  reconcilia- 
tion primarily  upon  him  who  had  received  the  wrong. 
The  initiative  was  to  be  taken  by  him  ;  and  it  was  only 
after  all  proper  exertions  had  been  made  by  him  in 
vain,  that  he  was  at  liberty  to  treat  the  wrong-doer  as 
"  a  heathen  man  and  a  publican." 

1  Matt,  xviii.  15-17. 


THE   UNMERCIFUL   SERVANT.  87 

This,  you  will  observe,  is  precisely  the  opposite  of 
the  "  code  "  of  the  world  upon  the  subject.  Commonly 
men  in  such  circumstances  wait  until  the  offender 
comes  to  them  with  a  confession  and  an  apology ;  and 
even  then  they  consider  it  to  be  a  matter  of  simple 
option  on  their  part,  whether  or  not  they  will  forgive 
him.  If  they  do,  they  take  credit  to  themselves  for 
magnanimity ;  but  if  they  do  not,  they  think  that  no 
one  has  a  right  to  blame  them.  But  the  course  which 
Christ  has  enjoined  is  entirely  different.  He  does  not 
command  the  injured  party  to  treat  the  whole  matter 
with  indifference,  and  take  no  notice  whatever  of  the 
wrong  that  has  been  done  to  him.  That  would  be  com- 
paratively easy,  and  many  who  do  that  flatter  them- 
selves that  they  are  forgiving  those  who  have  trespassed 
against  them.  But  the  Lord's  law  is  that  he  against* 
Avhom  the  trespass  has  been  committed  should  take 
measures  to  bring  the  evil-doer  to  a  right  sense  of  his 
guilt,  and  should  freely  pardon  him  on  the  expression 
of  his  penitence.  If,  however,  kindly,  wise,  and  repeated 
efforts  have  failed  to  bring  him  to  repentance,  then  the 
offender  is  to  be  left  to  himself;  while  yet  the  person 
offended  is  to  dismiss  all  malice  and  revenge  from  his 
heart,  and  to  hold  himself  ready  to  recognize  the  very 
earliest  indications  of  penitence  which  may  be  given  by 
the  other. 

The  law  thus  laid  down  cuts  deep,  and  the  enforce- 
ment of  it  made  a  profound  impression  on  the  heart  of 
Peter,  —  so  profound,  indeed,  that  for  once,  unlike  him- 
self, he  did  not  impulsively  and  immediately  speak 
out  about  it,  but  allowed  the  Lord  to  go  on  for  a 
season  uninterrupted  with  his  discourse.  But  though 
the  Saviour,  as  he  proceeded,  was  touching  on  some  most 
important  matters,  and  was,  indeed,  announcing  what  I 


88  THE  P ARABLES   OF  OUB   SAVIOUR. 

may  call  the  magna  cTiarta  of  social  worship,^  it  would 
almost  seem  that  Peter  had  not  heard  him.  Probably 
he  had  been  harboring  resentment  against  some  one  of 
the  twelve ;  for,  if  the  harmonizers  are  right,  there  had 
just  been  a  dispute  among  them  as  to  which  should  be 
the  greatest.  It  is  not  unlikely,  therefore,  that  some- 
thing had  been  said  by  one  or  more  of  them  which  had 
so  wronged  Peter,  that  he  felt  very  hardly  toward  them, 
and  therefore  he  could  not  get  that  exhortation  of  the 
Master  out  of  his  head.  It  had,  indeed,  most  emphatic- 
ally condemned  him ;  and  perhaps  like  the  lawyer  who, 
willing  to  justify  himself,  said,  "  Who  is  my  neighbor  ?  " 
Peter  here  was  seeking  for  some  salve  to  his  conscience 
when  he  asked,  "Lord,  how  oft  shall  my  brother  sin 
against  me,  and  I  forgive  him?  Till  seven  times?" 
But,  alas !  that  question  only  indicated  how  far  he  had 
been  from  really  comprehending  the  words  of  the  Lord. 
For  it  was  not  a  question  of  "how  often"  at  all. 
Rather  it  was  a  matter  of  character  which  was  to  be 
manifested  whensoever  the  occasion  arose.  Therefore, 
when  Christ  replied,  "  I  say  not,  until  seven  times,  but 
until  seventy  times  seven," — that  is  (for  the  answer 
gives  a  definite  for  an  indefinite  number),  there  can  be 
no  limit  of  times,  —  he  added  this  parable,  whereby  he 
shows  that  the  forgiving  spirit  ought  always  to  be  in 
the  heart  of  the  forgiven  man.  To  carry  out  the 
Saviour's  law,  therefore,  there  is  no  need  to  say  "how 
often ; "  but  all  that  is  necessary  is  to  keep  constantly 
before  us  the  fact  that  God  has  blotted  out  our  trans- 
gressions, and  will  not  remember  our  sins. 

In  the  story  itself,  there   is   not   much   that  needs 
verbal  explication.     A  king  calls  all  his   servants   to 

1  Matt,  xviii.  20. 


THE   UNMERCIFUL   SERVANT.  89 

account;  not  for  a  final  reckoning,  but  rather,  as  it 
would  appear,  at  some  unexpected  time,  that  he  might 
take  note  of  their  fidelity,  and  discover  how  the  vari- 
ous departments  of  his  kingdom  stood.  One  of  these 
servants,  probably  a  satrap  or  viceroy  over  some  dis- 
tant dependency,  was  brought  to  him,  —  mark  the 
expression  "  was  brought,"  as  perhaps  indicating  his 
reluctance  to  come,  —  who  proved  to  be  owing  ten  thou- 
sand talents.  Tliis,  however  reckoned,  was  an  enor- 
mous sum ;  amounting,  if  an  Attic  talent  be  taken  as 
the  unit,  to  ten  millions  of  our  dollars.  IIow  he  had 
come  to  be  thus  involved,  we  are  not  told.  But  he 
had  nothing  to  pay ;  and,  according  to  the  law  and  cus- 
tom of  the  times,  the  king  connnanded  him  to  be  sold, 
and  liis  wife  and  children,  that  so  far  at  least  payment 
should  be  made  and  the  defaulter  punished.  Ikit  at 
the  urgent  entreaty  of  the  hapless  debtor,  who  passion- 
ately cried,  "Have  patience  with  me,  and  I  will  pay 
thee  all,"  —  though  how  that  was  to  be  accomplished 
does  not  appear,  —  the  ruler  was  better  to  him  than 
he  asked,  "and  loosed  him,  and  forgave  him  the  debt." 
"  What  a  load  was  lifted  from  the  man's  heart  thereby  !  " 
we  are  apt  to  say,  "  and  how  ready  he  will  be  to  show 
kindness  to  others!"  Yes,  he  might  have  been,  if  he 
had  really  felt  it  to  be  a  load ;  but  it  seems,  both  from 
liis  expression  "  I  will  pay  thee  all,"  and  his  after-con- 
duct, that  he  had  not  felt  it  to  be  very  much  of  a  bur- 
den, and  so  there  was  little  gratitude  in  his  soul.  He 
had  escaped  from  that  Avhich  he  feared,  and  his  thoughts 
were  more  about  his  own  good  fortune  than  about 
liis  lord's  magnanimity.  "Himself"  was  the  idol  of  his 
heart ;  and  so,  on  "  going  out "  from  his  lord's  pres- 
ence (all !  he  would  not  have  attempted  it  before  his 
master's  face),  and  finding  a  man  who  owed  him  a  mere 


90  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUB  SAVIOUR. 

beggarly  item  of  a  hundred  pence,  or  about  fifteen  of 
our  dollars,  he  laid  hands  on  him,  and  took  him  by  the 
throat,  saying,  "  Pay  me  that  thou  owest."  This  man 
was  his  fellow-servant,  and  besought  him  in  precisely 
the  same  words  as  he  had  himself  used  to  his  master. 
He  was  owing  only  one  hundred  pence,  whereas  his  own 
debt  had  been  thousands  of  talents.  Still,  there  was  no 
compassion  in  his  heart  for  him,  and  he  sent  him 
remorselessly  to  prison.  Such,  conduct,  very  naturally, 
made  his  other  fellow-servants  indignant,  and  they 
immediately  reported  it  to  their  lord;  who  at  once 
revoked  his  clemency,  and  delivered  the  heartless 
wretch  to  the  tormentors,  saying,  "  O  thou  wicked  ser- 
vant, I  forgave  thee  all  that  debt«because  thou  desiredst 
me :  shouldst  not  thou  also  have  had  compassion  on  thy 
fellow-servant,  even  as  I  had  pity  on  thee?"  "So  like- 
wise," adds  the  Lord,  "  shall  my  heavenly  Father  do 
also  unto  you,  if  ye  from  your  hearts  forgive  not  every 
one  his  brother  their  trespasses."  T  This  does  not  mean 
that  God  revokes  the  forgiveness  which  he  has  once 
bestowed,  for  his  "gifts  and  calling"  are  "without 
I  repentance,"  and  we  must  not  attempt  to  force  the  par- 
allel here  into  the  teaching  of  any  thing  like  that ;  but 
it  is  a  symbolical  way  of  saying  that  he  who  will  not 
forgive  another  has  not  really  himself  been  yet  for- 
given. All  controversies,  therefore,  over  the  bearing 
of  this  parable  on  the  doctrine  of  the  perseverance  of 
the  saints,  are  entirely  irrelevant.  That  matter  is  not 
in  any  manner  brought  up  here ;  but  the  whole  drift 
and  purpose  of  the  parable  is  to  show  that  he  who 
cherishes  an  unforgiving  spirit  has  never  been  a  saint 
at  all,  and  has  never  really  accepted  pardon  for  him- 
self. As  Edersheim  has  said,  "  The  recall  of  the  king's 
original  forgiveness  of  the  great  debtor  can  only  be 


THE   UNMERCIFUL   SERVANT.  91 

intended  to  bi'ing  out  the  utter  incompatibility  of  such 
harshness  toward  a  brother,  on  the  part  of  one  who  has 
been  consciously  forgiven  by  God."^^  Or,  as  Arnot 
expresses  it,  "  If  you  get  pardon  from  God,  you  Avill 
give  it  to  a  brother :  if  you  withhold  it  from  your 
brother,  you  thereby  make  it  manifest  that  you  have 
not  gotten  it  from  God."  ^  This  is  the  great  thought 
of  the  parable ;  but  as  a  whole  the  story  is  so  rich  in  its 
evangelical  suggestiveness,  that  I  shall  endeavor  to 
bring  out  before  you  the  leading  truths  which  it  spe- 
cially emphasizes,  and  at  the  same  time  so  to  arrange 
and  illustrate  these,  as  to  give  its  true  climactic  force 
to  the  conclusion  which  it  was  designed  to  establish. 

I.  Observe,  then,  in  the  first  place,  as  clearly  implied 
in  this  parable,  that  ive  are  all  God's  debtors.  Debt,  in 
the  New  Testament,  is  a  common  figure  for  sin.  That, 
however,  does  not  imply  that  the  obligation  under  which 
we  lie  as  guilty  before  God  is  of  a  pecuniary  sort,  and 
such  as  can  be  cancelled  by  the  payment  of  money. 
Duty  is  a  moral  thing,  not  a  commercial.  The  neglect 
to  discharge  it,  or  the  commission  of  that  which  is 
inconsistent  with  it,  constitutes  a  moral  ofience  for 
which  silver  and  gold  have  no  equivalent.  Money  and 
duty  belong  to  different  departments.  If  I  may  use  an 
arithmetical  formula,  they  never  can  be  reduced  to  a 
common  denominator.  The  law  of  God  never  can  be 
satisfied  with  a  pecuniar}'-  fine ;  and  no  one  can  pur- 
chase exemption  from  its  obligation,  or  make  atonement 
for  its  violation,  by  the  offering  of  money. 

But  though,  in  its  literal  sense,  as  denoting  money 
owed  by  one  to  another,  the  word  "debt"  cannot  be 

1  Life  and  TiTiios  of  Jesus  the  Messiah,  vol.  ii.  ]}.  294. 

2  Parables,  p.  1<J3. 


92  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR. 

taken  as  identical  with  sin ;  yet  when  used  figuratively, 
as  signifying  an  obligation  which  one  has  failed  to  meet, 
it  may  well  illustrate  what  the  Scriptures  mean  by  ini- 
quity. For,  what  is  sin?  It  is  either  a  failure  to  come 
up  to  the  standard  of  God's  law,  or  a  transgression  of 
its  commands ;  and  he  who  has  committed  it  is  a  debtor 
in  the  sense  of  owing  satisfaction  to  that  moral  code 
which  he  has  dishonored.  Now,  in  this  sense,  we  are  all 
God's  debtors ;  for  "  we  have  left  undone  those  things 
which  we  ought  to  have  done,  and  we  have  done  those 
things  which  we  ought  not  to  have  done."  So  much,  I 
suppose,  we  should  all  be  ready  to  acknowledge.  But 
do  we  really  mean  what  we  say,  when  we  make  such  a 
confession?  Have  we  any  "bill  of  particulars"  in  our 
minds  at  the  moment?  or  do  we  use  the  words  as  a 
mere  form,  out  of  which  all  significance  has  long  since 
departed?  The  question  is  important;  for  low  views 
of  sin,  and  false  notions  as  to  the  nature  of  their  own 
guilt,  lie  largely  at  the  root  of  men's  indifference  to  the 
salvation  which  God  has  provided.  It  is  an  easy  thing 
to  say,  "I  am  a  sinner,"  but  it  is  another  thing  to  feel 
all  that  the  acknowledgment  implies  ;^and  it  is  to  be 
feared,  that  many  who  use  the  language  of  general 
confession  would  yet  be  found  emphatically  denying  to 
their  fellow-men  that  they  had  committed  the  sins  of 
which  their  words  before  God  seem  to  be  the  acknowl- 
edgment. Alas !  it  is  too  true ;  and  the  sarcasm  of  those 
who  speak  of  the  hypocrisy  of  such  confessions  is  not 
without  warrant  in  the  prayers  of  many  unctuous  pro- 
fessors of  penitence.  Let  us  be  honest  with  ourselves, 
therefore,  that  we  may  be  honest  with  God.  Let  us 
compare  our  character  and  conduct  with  the  require- 
ments of  God's  law.  Let  us  measure  ourselves,  not 
by  the  standards  of  conventionalism  and  custom,  but  by 


TUB   UNMERCIFUL   SERVANT.  93 

these  words  :  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with 
all  thy  heart,  with  all  thy  soul,  with  all  thy  mind,  and 
with  all  thy  strength,  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself;" 
and  let  us  see  how  far  short  we  have  come  of  their 
fulfilment.  Let  us  analyze  our  conduct  in  the  labora- 
tory of  the  closet,  and  with  the  tests  of  Holy  Scrip- 
ture. Then  our  confession,  instead  of  being  a  form, 
will  become  a  reality;  and  the  vague  generalities 
which  mean  so  little  on  our  lips  will  give  place  to 
acknowledgments  of  particular  sins,  accompanied  with 
shame  and  confusion  of  face  for  their  commission.  It 
would  be  a  much  healthier  sign  of  the  state  of  our 
consciences,  if,  instead  of  simply  crying  for  mercy  as 
"  miserable  sinners,"  each  of  us  should  specify  the 
particular  sins  which  he  has  committed ;  and  for  lack 
of  that  it  is,  that  so  many  among  us  feel  so  little 
real  sorrow  for  guilt,  even  when  we  seem  to  be  ask- 
ing for  forgiveness.  When,  therefore,  I  draw  from  this 
parable  the  inference  that  we  are  all  God's  debtors,  let 
each  of  us  confess  the  sins  of  which  he  is  consciously 
guilty ;  and  then  our  acknowledgment,  while  it  is  the 
same  for  all,  will  be  specifically  distinct  for  each,  and 
will  be  at  least  sincere. 

II.  Observe,  in  the  second  place,  as  clearly  implied  in 
this  parable,  that  none  of  us  has  ariy  tldng  wheretvitJi 
to  pay  his  debt  to  God.  Here,  again,  we  come  upon  a 
very  prevalent  error  among  men.  When  God  calls  us 
to  a  reckoning,  by  any  solemn  providence,  such  as  af- 
fliction, bereavement,  the  loss  of  worldly  possessions,  or 
tlie  like,  and  confronts  us  with  himself,  most  of  us,  I 
believe,  would  be  willing  to  acknowledge  our  guilt ;  but 
comparatively  few,  I  fear,  would  admit  that  they  could 
do  nothing  to  make  amends  therefor.    This  servant  said 


94  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

to  his  king,  "  Have  patience  with  me,  and  T  will  pay  thee 
all ; "  though  where  he  imagined  he  was  to  get  such  a 
sum  of  money,  is  more  than  I  can  understand.  But  it  is 
just  the  same  with  the  sinner  and  his  God.  The  mo- 
ment his  guilt  is  brought  home  to  him,  he  is  impelled 
to  do  something  or  to  promise  something,  in  the  way  of 
wiping  out  that  guilt.  Commonly  the  very  last  thing 
which  he  will  admit  is  that  he  can  do  nothing  to  make 
atonement  for  it.  He  tvill  go  about  to  establish  his  own 
righteousness.  He  tvill  try  to  make  himself  better. 
He  tvill  promise  future  obedience,  as  if  that  could  be  a 
satisfaction  for  the  sins  of  the  past.  It  is  thus  with  him 
as  it  is  too  often  with  business  men  in  a  time  of  embar- 
rassment ;  for,  no  matter  how  involved  his  affairs  may 
be,  the  very  last  thing  that  a  merchant  will  admit  is 
that  he  is  hopelessly  insolvent.  Hugh  Miller,  in  his 
autobiography,  thus  describes  what  he  learned  by  his 
experience  as  a  clerk  in  the  branch  bank  of  Linlithgow: 
"  I  found  I  could  predict  every  bankruptcy  in  the  dis- 
trict ;  but  I  usually  fell  short  from  ten  to  eighteen 
months  of  the  period  in  which  the  event  actually  took 
place.  I  could  pretty  nearly  determine  the  time  wlien 
the  difficulties  and  entanglements  which  I  saw,  ou<j/ht  to 
have  produced  their  proper  effects,  and  landed  in  fail- 
ure ;  but  I  missed  taking  into  account  the  desperate 
efforts  which  men  of  energetic  temperament  make  in 
such  circumstances,  and  which,  to  the  signal  injury  of 
their  friends  and  the  loss  of  their  creditors,  succeed 
usually  in  staving  off  the  catastrophe  for  a  season."!^ 
So  the  sinner,  in  his  attempts  to  work  out  his  own  re- 
demption, sinks  only  the  deeper  into  the  mire.  Nor  is 
this  to  be  wondered  at :  for  the  law  demands  perfection ; 
and,  as  his  nature  is  depraved,  every  new  effort  which 

1  My  Schools  aud  Sclioolmasters,  pp.  494,  495. 


TUE   UNMERCIFUL   SERVANT.  95 

he  puts  forth,  being  tainted  with  that  inherent  pollution, 
is  only  the  addition  of  a  new  item  to  his  guilt.  We 
are,  therefore,  not  only  God's  debtors,  but  we  have,  and 
we  can  have,  no  assets ;  so  that  we  are  hopelessly  insol- 
vent. We  are  not  only  guilty,  but  helplessly  guilty. 
Let  that  be  clearly  understood  and  cordially  accepted 
by  you  all ;  for  many  stumble  at  this  stumbling-stone. 
So  long  as  you  seek  to  establish  your  own  righteousness, 
you  are  but  like  a  criminal  on  the  tread-wheel,  and 
every  step  descends  with  3^ou  as  soon  as  3'ou  attempt  to 
raise  yourself  upon  it ;  or  like  a  man  who  seeks  to  build 
a  house  upon  a  quicksand,  in  which  every  stone  dis- 
appears as  soon  as  it  is  laid.  The  simple  truth  is  just  as 
Toplady  has  sung  it :  —  y 

"  Not  the  labor  of  my  hands 
Can  fulfil  thy  law's  demands; 
Could  my  zeal  no  respite  know, 
Could  my  tears  forever  flow, 
All  for  sin  could  not  atone : 
Thou  must  save,  and  thou  alone." 

For  none  of  us  has  any  thing  wherewith  to  pay  God's 
debt. 

III.  This  leads  me  to  the  third  thing  implied  in  the 
parable ;  namely,  that  God  is  willing/  to  forgive  vs  all 
our  debt.  It  is,  indeed,  the  very  purpose  of  revelation 
to  make  that  fact  known  to  men ;  and  in  its  proclama- 
tion David  and  Paul,  Isaiah  and  John,  Jeremiah  and 
Peter,  are  in  full  accord.  Take  the  following  passages 
in  proof  of  our  assertion :  "  With  the  Lord  there  is 
mercy ;  and  witli  him  is  plenteous  redemption,  and  he 
shall  redeem  Israel  from  all  his  ini<|uities."  "Come 
now  and  let  us  reason  together,  saith  the  Lord:    though 


96  THE  FAB  ABLE  S  OF  OUR   SAVIOUIi. 

your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  Avhite  as  snow; 
though  they  be  red  like  crimson,  they  shall  be  as  wool." 
"Let  the  wicked  forsake  his  way,  and  the  unrighteous 
man  his  thoughts ;  and  let  him  return  unto  the  Lord, 
and  he  will  have  mercy  upon  him,  and  to  our  God,  for 
he  will  abundantly  pardon."  "  I  will  cleanse  them  from 
all  their  iniquity  whereby  they  have  sinned  against  me, 
and  I  will  pardon  all  their  iniquities  whereby  they 
have  sinned  and  whereby  they  have  transgressed 
against  me."  "  If  we  confess  our  sins,  he  is  faithful  and 
just  to  forgive  us  our  sins,  and  to  cleanse  us  from  all 
unrighteousness."  ^  And  if  the  presence  of  that  word 
"just"  in  this  quotation  from  John  should  provoke  the 
question,  how  he  can  be  just,  and  yet  freely  pardon  the 
iniquity  of  the  sinner,  the  answer  is  given  by  Paul: 
"  Christ  Jesus,  whom  God  hath  set  forth  to  be  a  pro- 
pitiation through  faith  in  his  blood  for  the  remission  of 
sins  that  are  past,  through  the  forbearance  of  God,  to 
declare,  I  say,  at  this  time  his  righteousness,  that  he 
might  be  just  and  the  justifier  of  him  which  believeth 
in  Jesus."  2  Or,  again,  "  He  hath  made  him  to  be  sin  for 
us,  who  knew  no  sin,  that  we  might  be  made  the  right- 
eousness of  God  in  him  ; "  so  that  "  God  was  in  Christ 
reconciling  the  world  unto  himself,  not  imputing  their 
trespasses  unto  them."  "  In  him  we  have  redemption 
through  his  blood,  even  the  forgiveness  of  sins."  ^  But 
what  need  I  more  ?  Surely  I  have  quoted  enough  to 
prove  that  God  is  willing  frankly  to  forgive  us  all  our 
debt.  He  asks  no  merit.  He  will  accept  no  price. 
He  will  not  sell  pardon,  either  for  our  alms,  or  our  fast- 
ings, or  our  penances,  or  our  tears ;  for  thus  has  his 
servant   declared:  .  "Not  by   works   of    righteousness 

1  Ps.  cxxx.  7,  8;  Isa.  i.  IS;  Jer.  xxxiii.  8;  1  John  i.  9. 

2  Rom.  iii.  25,  2C;  2  Cor.  v.  21;  Col.  i.  U. 


THE   UNMERCIFUL   SERVANT.  97 

which  we  have  done,  but  according  to  his  mercy  he 
saves  us  by  the  w'ashing  of  regeneration  and  the  renew- 
ing of  the  Holy  Ghost."  ^  This  is  the  very  central  truth 
of  the  gospel,  that,  indeed,  which  makes  it  a  gospel,  a 
message  of  good  news  to  men.  Let  every  sinner  hear 
it,  and  rejoice.  God  is  willing  frankly  to  forgive  us  oui* 
debt. 

IV.  But  now,  observe  in  the  fourth  place,  as  implied 
in  this  parable,  that  the  reception  of  this  forgiveness 
h)j  us  involves  in  it  the  obligation  to  forgive  those  of 
our  felloiv-men  who  have  trespassed  against  ourselves. 
The  servant  before  us,  after  having  received  his  lord's 
favor,  went  and  demanded  in  the  most  peremptory 
manner  the  payment  of  a  small  debt  which  a  fellow- 
servant  owed  him ;  and  because  he  did  not  obtain  that, 
he  cast  his  poor  debtor  into  prison.  This  drew  upon 
him  the  condemnation  of  his  lord,  who  revoked  his 
kindness,  and  delivered  him  to  the  tormentors.  Now, 
as  we  have  already  said,  Christ  thus  teaches  in  a  sym- 
bolical way,  that  we  who  have  freely  received  God's 
pardon  should  also  freely  forgive  those  who  have 
offended  or  injured  us;  and  that,  if  we  do  not  thus 
pardon  those  who  have  trespassed  against  us,  we  have 
not  yet  really  accepted  God's  forgiveness. 

Rut  to  prevent  mistake,  let  us  clearly  understand 
low  far  this  obligation  extends.  It  does  not  imply  that 
we  are  to  take  no  notice  whatever  of  the  wrong  that  has 
been  done  to  us,  saying,  "What  does  it  matter  to  me? 
I  can  afford  to  let  such  a  one  do  or  say  any  thing  he 
pleases."  That  would  be  saving  ourselves,  perhaps,  a 
great  amount  of  trouble;  but  it  would  not  be  the  "gain- 
ing "  of  our  brother,  and  it  would  not  be  forgiveness. 

1  Tit.  iii.  5, 


98  TUE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

Nay,  rather,  it  would  be  selfish  indifference  alike  to  our 
brother  and  his  guilt.  That  which  is  forgiven  is  a  tres- 
pass ;  and,  while  there  is  to  be  in  our  hearts  the  disposi- 
tion to  forgive  it,  we  must  also  seek  to  bring  our  brother 
to  the  admission  that  it  was  a  tresj^ass,  and  to  the  ex- 
pression of  his  sorrow  for  its  commission.  As  Arnot  ^ 
•says,  "  Parallel  with  forgiveness  there  must  be  faithful- 
ness. Faithfulness  to  the  evil-doer  himself  and  to  the 
community  comes  in  here  to  modify,  not  the  nature,  but 
the  outward  form,  of  forgiving."  We  must  read  the 
parable  in  the  light  of  the  j)lain  and  explicit  commands 
concerning  the  dealing  with  an  offending  brother,  as 
these  are  given  in  verses  15-17  of  this  same  chapter. 
The  obligation,  thus  interpreted,  amounts  to  this :  that 
we  should  dismiss  from  our  hearts  all  hatred,  malice, 
and  uncharitableness  toward  those  who  have  wronged 
us ;  that  we  should  ourselves  take  the  initiative,  and  open 
a  door  toward  reconciliation,  by  using  means  to  bring 
the  offender  to  the  acknowledgment  of  his  guilt,  and 
the  acceptance  of  forgiveness ;  and  that,  when  he  thus 
confesses  his  sin  and  expresses  his  penitence,  we  should 
be  ready  to  meet  him  with  our  frank  and  full  pardon. 
But  if,  after  we  have  faithfully  and  lovingly  endeavored 
to  set  his  wrong-doing  before  him,  he  continues  obsti- 
nate and  irreconcilable,  this  parable  does  not  teach,  and 
neither  the  word  of  God  nor  the  spirit  of  the  gospel 
requires,  that  we  should  be  toward  him  precisely  as  if  he 
had  never  injured  us,  and  as  if  he  were  the  most  amia- 
ble person  in  the  world ;  for  then  comes  in  the  precept, 
"  let  him  be  to  thee  as  a  heathen  man  and  a  publican." 
f  "  There  is,"  as  Arnot  says,  "  no  virtue  in  simply  per- 
mitting a  man  to  wrong  you  as  often  as  he  chooses,  for- 
giving him  and  doing  nothing  more."^^  Forgiveness  can 

1  The  Parables  of  Our  Lord,  p.  198. 


THE   UNMERCIFUL   SERVANT.  99 

he  exercised  only  where  the  wrong  is  acknowledged 
and  repented  of.  The  noble-minded  prisoner  who  had 
done  no  wrong  would  not  accept  a  pardon,  because  that 
Avould  have  been  an  admission  of  his  guilt.  But  the 
same  thing  holds  with  one  who  has  done  wrong.  The 
acceptance  of  forgiveness  implies  an  acknowledgment 
of  guilt;  and  if  forgiveness  in  the  right  sense  of  the 
word  is  to  be  given  by  us,  or  accepted  by  the  man  who 
has  trespassed  against  us,  we  must  first  bring  him  to  a 
true  perception  and  acknowledgment  of  guilt.  To  do 
nothing  about  it,  is  not  to  forgive,  and  is  neither  just 
to  ourselves,  nor  kind  to  the  wrong-doer.  Willingness 
to  be  reconciled,  together  with  the  use  of  all  proper 
means  for  the  effecting  of  a  reconciliation,  and  the  dis- 
missal from  our  souls  of  every  thing  like  vindictive 
feeling,  even  when  a  reconciliation  is  found  to  be  im- 
possible, —  these  are  the  things  which  are  especially 
enforced  in  this  striking  parable.  ) 

But  how  comes  it  that  the  obligation  to  cherish  this 
forgiving  spirit  is  connected  with  our  reception  of  God's 
mercy  ?  .,To  that  I  reply,  that  all  who  really  accept 
God's  pardon  are  at  the  same  time  renewed  into  his 
image  by  the  power  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  and  so,  resem- 
bling him  in  character,  they  seek  to  do  unto  others  as 
he  has  done  to  them.  Gratitude  to  him  will  take  the 
form  of  forgiving  those  who  have  sinned  against  them- 
selves. Thus,  altogether  irrespective  of  any  outward 
precept,  the  suggestions  of  the  Spirit  within  them  would 
impel  them  to  forgive  those  who  trespass  against  themj 
But  there  is  no  lack  of  outward  precept  in  this  case. 
Thus  Paul,  in  writing  to  the  Ephesians,  says,  "Be  ye  kind 
one  toward  another,  tender-hearted,  forgiving  one  an- 
other, even  as  God  for  Christ's  sake  hath  forgiven  you."  ^ 

1  Epli.  iv.  32. 


100  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

And  again,  in  his  letter  to  the  Colossians,  we  have 
these  words :  "  P'orbearing  one  another,  and  forgiving 
one  another,  if  any  man  have  a  quarrel  against  any; 
even  as  Christ  forgave  you,  so  also  do  ye."  ^  In  like 
manner  the  example  of  Christ  —  which  is  the  rule  for 
every  Christian  —  teaches  the  same  thing;  for  in  the  very 
agony  of  his  passion,  at  the  very  time  when  they  were 
nailing  him  to  the  cross,  there  came  from  his  heart  to  his 
lips  that  loving  intercession,  "  Father,  forgive  them,  for 
they  know  not  what  they  do."  /And  in  the  prayer  which 
he  gave  to  his  followers,  both  as  a  pattern  and  a  form, 
we  have  this  petition :  "  Forgive  us  our  debts  as  we 
forgive  our  debtors ; "  a  petition  which  implies  that  our 
forgiveness  of  others  is  to  be,  not  the  ground  on  which 
we  ask  our  own  pardon,  but  the  evidence  that  we  are 
cherishing  a  God-like  spirit  towards  those  who  have 
offended  us.  Yet  it  is  a  solemn  thought,  never  to  be 
forgotten  by  us,  that  every  time  we  offer  that  prayer,  we 
do  virtually  ask  God  to  deal  with  us  as  we  are  dealing 
with  others  ;  and  so,  in  the  mouth  of  a  revengeful  or 
vindictive  person,  it  is  an  impi'ecation  of  evil  on  his 
own  head.  "  Conceive,"  says  Augustus  Hare,  "  an  un- 
forgiving man,  with  heart  full  of  wrath  against  his 
neighbor,  with  a  memory  which  treasures  up  the  little 
wrongs  and  insults  and  provocations  he  fancies  himself 
to  have  received  from  that  neighbor,  — conceive  such  a 
man  praying  to  God  Most  High  to  forgive  him  his  debts 
as  he  forgives  his  debtors.  What,  in  the  mouth  of  such 
a  man,  do  these  words  mean  ?  They  mean  —  But,  that 
you  may  fully  understand  their  meaning,  I  will  turn 
them  into  a  prayer,  which  we  will  call  the  prayer  of  the 
unforgiving  man  :  '  O  God,  I  have  sinned  against  thee 
many  times  from  my  youth  up  till  now.     I  have  been 

1  Col.  iii,  13. 


THE   UNMERCIFUL   SERVANT.  101 

often  forgetful  of  thy  goodness  ;  I  have  not  daily 
thanked  thee  for  thy  mercies  ;  I  liave  neglected  thy  ser- 
vice. I  have  broken  thy  laws.  I  have  done  many 
things  utterly  wrong  against  thee.  All  this  I  know ; 
and  besides  this,  doubtless  I  have  committed  many 
secret  sins,  which  in  my  blindness  I  have  failed  to 
notice.  Such  is  my  guiltiness,  O  Lord,  in  tliy  sight. 
Deal  with  me,  I  beseech  thee,  even  as  I  deal  with  my 
neighbor.  He  hath  not  offended  me  one-tenth,  one- 
hundredth  part,  as  much  as  I  have  offended  thee  ;  but  he 
has  offended  me  very  grievously,  and  I  cannot  forgive 
him.  He  has  been  very  ungrateful  to  me,  though  not  a 
tenth,  not  a  hundredth  part,  as  ungrateful  as  I  have  been 
to  thee :  3'et  I  cannot  overlook  such  base  ingratitude. 
Deal  with  mc,  O  Lord,  I  beseech  thee,  as  I  deal  with 
him.  I  remember  and  treasure  up  every  little  trifle 
which  sliows  how  ill  he  has  behaved  to  me.  Deal  with 
me,  I  beseech  thee,  O  Lord,  as  I  deal  Avith  him.'  Can 
any  thing  be  more  shocking  and  horrible  than  such  a 
prayer?  Is  not  the  very  sound  of  it  enough  to  make 
one's  blood  run  cold  ?  Yet  tliis  is  just  the  prayer  which 
the  unforgiving  man  offers  up,  every  time  he  repeats  the 
Lord's  Prayer.  For  he  j)rays  to  God  to  forgive  him  in 
the  same  manner  in  wliich  he  forgives  his  neighbor. (JBut 
he  does  not  forgive  his  neighbor,  and  so  he  prays  to 
God  not  to  forgive  him. ":  God  grant  that  his  prayer  may 
not  be  heard,  for  he  is  praying  for  a  curse  upon  his  own 
head  !  "  1  ) 

I  cannot  conclude  without  pausing  for  a  few  moments 
to  give  emphasis  to  three  facts  which  are  all  suggested 
by  this  parable,  and  which  give  tremendous  force  to  the 
lesson  wliich  it  teaches. 

The   first  is,  that   our   sins   against  God  are  vastly 

I  Alton  Sermons,  pp.  4G7,  468. 


102  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

greater  than  our  neighbor's  trespasses  against  us.  The 
servant's  debt  to  his  lord  was  ten  thousand  talents,  but 
his  fellow-servant's  debt  to  him  was  a  hundred  pence : 
so  the  injuries  which  others  have  done  or  can  do  to  us 
are  small  and  paltry  in  comparison  with  the  enormity 
of  our  offences  against  God.  If,  therefore,  he  forgives 
the  greater,  we  may  forgive  the  less. 

The  second  is,  that  God  himself  is  not  a  sinner,  and  is 
not  induced  by  the  consciousness  of  any  guilt  of  his  own 
to  show  mercy  to  the  transgressor ;  but  we  are  contin- 
ually needing  not  only  the  forbearance  of  God,  but  also 
the  long-suffering  of  our  fellow-men.  If,  therefore,  He 
who  never  offended  any  one,  and  does  not  need  any  for- 
giveness, so  frankly  forgives  us,  how  much  more  ought 
we,  who  so  frequently  trespass,  both  against  him  and 
our  neighbors,  to  forgive  those  who  trespass  against 
ourselves  ? 

*'  Forget  not,  tlioii  hast  often  sinned, 
And  sinful  still  must  be  : 
Deal  gently  with  the  erring  one, 
As  thy  God  has  dealt  with  thee." 

The  third  is,  that  implacability  on  our  part  is  an  evi- 
dence that  we  are  as  yet  unforgiven  by  God.  "  If  any 
man  have  not  the  spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  none  of  his. " 
The  tree  repeats  itself  in  the  framework  of  every  leaf; 
and  if  in  our  lives  there  be  revensfe  and  unforo-ivinsfness, 
these  things  demonstrate  that  we  have  no  living  connec- 
tion with  the  true  vine.  An  unforgiving  Christian  is  a 
contradiction  in  terms.  "So  likewise  shall  my  heaven- 
ly Father  do  also  unto  you,  if  ye  from  the  heart  forgive 
not  every  one  his  brother  their  trespasses."  i^Mark  these 
words,  "  my  heavenly  Father.  "  There  are  those  among 
us  who  are  constantly  affirming  that  it  would  be  incon- 


THE   UNMERCIFUL   SERVANT.  103 

sistent  with  God's  fatherhood,  if  he  should  leave  any 
unforgiven.  But  it  is  not  so  that  the  eternal  Son  has 
revealed  to  us  the  fatherhood  of  God.  Nay,  rather,  just 
because  the  heavenly  Father  is  love,  he  must  be  ever- 
lastingly opposed  to  a  spirit  so  unlike  his  own  as  that  of 
the  implacable  and  unforgiving  man.  Here,  indeed,  to 
me,  is  the  appalling  lesson  of  the  parable :  that  God  the 
Father,  who  is  now  so  willing  to  forgive  us  all,  must 
and  shall  leave  unforgiven  all  who  cherish  and  mani- 
fest this  unforgiving  temper.)  "Take  care  how  you 
offend  me,  for  I  never  forgive, "  said  one  man  to  an- 
other, in  the  hearing  of  John  Wesley.  "Then,"  said 
the  man  of  God,  "  I  hope  you  never  sin ;  for,  with  what 
measure  ye  mete,  it  shall  be  measured  to  you  again." 
God  grant  that  we  may  all  so  gratefully  accept  his  for- 
giveness, as  to  be  thereby  impelled  to  seek  forgiveness 
from  the  brethren  whom  we  have  wronged,  and  to 
grant  forgiveness  to  those  who  have  wronged  ourselves ! 


;•/ 


104  TUE  FAB  ABLE  S  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR, 


VII. 

THE   LABORERS   IN    THE    FINEYARD. 

(Matt.  XX.  1-16.) 

This  parable  is  perhaps  harder  to  interpret  than  any 
other  which  the  Saviour  uttered.  It  will  serve  no  good 
purpose  to  enter  upon  the  controversies  which  have  been 
carried  on  concerning  it  by  commentators ;  yet  it  is  im- 
portant that  we  should  define  wherein  the  difficulties 
connected  with  its  exposition  lie,  inasmuch  as  a  clear 
apprehension  of  that  may  help  us  to  the  right  solution 
of  them. 

Now,  in  the  first  place,  we  cannot  disguise  it  from 
ourselves,  that  the  story,  on  the  face  of  it,  is  one  which 
is  exceedingly  improbable.  We  all  feel  that  as  we  read 
it,  and  only  our  reverence  for  our  Lord  prevents  us  from 
giving  expression  to  that  conviction.  There  is,  indeed, 
nothing  surprising  in  a  householder  going  in  the  morn- 
ing to  the  market-place  to  hire  laborers  to  work  in  his 
vineyard.  That  was  common  enough  in  the  times  in 
which  our  Saviour  lived.  We  can  conceive,  also,  of  cir- 
cumstances which  necessitated  the  employment  of  as 
many  hands  as  possible,  and  which  impelled  him  to  go 
out  at  later  hours  in  the  day  to  send  other  laborers  into 
the  vineyard ;  though  when  it  came  to  five  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon,  and  only  one  working  hour  remained,  we 
do  feel  it  to  be  rather  strange  that  he  should  engage 
others  for  such  a  brief  time.   But  it  is  still  more  unusual 


THE  LABORERS  IN  THE   VINEYARD.  105 

to  find  an  employer  giving  as  much  remuneration  to 
those  who  wrought  for  one  hour,  as  he  did  to  those  who 
wrought  for  nine  or  twelve.  Josephus  indeed  tells  us 
that  the  high  priest  Annas  gave  the  workmen  emploj^ed 
in  repairing  or  adorning  the  temple  a  whole  day's  pay, 
even  though  they  labored  only  for  a  single  hour ;  but 
the  very  fact  of  his  mentioning  such  a  circumstance 
marks  it  as  unprecedented.  It  was  not  the  custom  in 
those  ancient  days.  It  is  not  the  custom  now.  None 
of  you  who  are  employers  of  labor  would  ever  think 
of  doing  such  a  thing,  as  a  rule ;  and  the  principles  of 
political  economy  would  condemn  you,  and  insure  your 
business  failure,  if  you  attempted  to  carry  out  such  a 
plan.  This  householder,  therefore,  was  no  common 
character.  He  was  what  w^ould  now  be  called  "  pecul- 
iar." He  was  different  from  others,  —  eccentric,  if  you 
choose ;  had  his  own  way  of  doing  things,  and  did  not 
care  how  other  people  regarded  him  ;  was  not  actuated 
by  orduiary  motives,  and  managed  his  vineyard  on  prin- 
ciples which  were  radically  opposite  to  those  in  vogue 
among  men.  But  when  we  come  to  think  it  out,  we 
shall  discover  that  he  must  be  such  an  one,  if  he  would 
truly  represent  God  in  his  dealings  with  men  generally. 
Is  it  not  written,  "  INIy  thoughts  are  not  your  thoughts, 
neither  are  your  ways  my  ways,  saith  the  Lord.  For  as 
the  heavens  are  higher  than  the  earth,  so  are  my  ways 
liigher  than  your  ways,  and  my  thoughts  than  your 
thouglits "  ?  If,  therefore,  this  householder  had  been 
in  all  respects  like  every  other  householder,  and  his 
actions  precisely  the  same  as  those  of  householders  in 
general  among  men,  he  would  have  been  no  proper 
representative  of  the  Head  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven, 
and  his  doings  woukl  have  borne  no  resemblance  to  the 
administration  of  that  kingdom  which  is  "not  of  this 


106  TilE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

world."  Hence  we  need  not  be  disturbed  about  the 
unnaturalness  or  improbability  of  tlie  story  as  a  story. 
Speaking  after  the  manner  and  standard  of  men,  the 
gospel  itself  is  unnatural  and  improbable ;  and  only  a 
'householder  who  cared  more  for  the  culture  of  men,  than 
for  the  production  of  grapes,  could  rightly  represent 
Him  who  measures  service  not  by  its  visible  result,  but 
by  the  sj)irit  in  which  it  is  rendered. 

A  second  and  even  more  serious  difficult}^  is  in  the 
fact  that  the  act  of  this  householder  seems  to  be  unjust. 
We  have  all  a  kind  of  sympathy  with  the  grumblers 
who  say,  "  These  last  have  wronght  but  one  hour,  and 
thou  hast  made  them  equal  unto  us  which  have  borne 
the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day."  So  common  is  this 
sympathy,  that  expositors  have  tried  to  remove  the  diffi- 
culty out  of  which  it  arises,  by  sundry  suggestions  of 
their  own.  Some,  for  examjile,  have  said  that  the  house- 
holder's act  was  grounded  in  the  fact  that  the  late 
comers  had  done  as  much  in  one  hour  as  the  early  ones 
had  performed  in  twelve ;  but  there  is  no  word  of  that 
in  the  parable,  and  if  that  had  been  the  explanation,  it 
would  have  been  easy  for  the  householder  to  vindicate 
himself  by  saying,  "  You  have  no  right  to  complain, 
for,  judging  [as  a  modern  employer  would  say]  'by 
the  piece,'  they  have  earned  as  much  as  you."  But  in- 
stead of  that,  he  simply  falls  back  upon  his  right  to  do 
what  he  chose  with  his  own.  Others  have  supposed, 
that,  while  the  late  comers  were  paid  with  a  brass  dena- 
rius, the  others  were  rewarded  with  a  silver  one  or  with 
a  gold  one ;  and  so  they  tell  us  that  there  is  one  heaven 
for  all,  yet  varying  for  each  in  glory  and  exaltation, 
according  to  his  work  on  earth.  But  true  as  that  is, 
for  many  portions  of  the  Word  of  God  attest  it,  yet  it 
cannot  surely  be  the  truth  taught  here ;  for  there  is  no 


THE  LABOREIiS  IN  THE   VINETAltD.  107 

hint  of  it  ill  the  parable,  and  it  wouki  have  been  easy 
for  the  househokler  to  have  justified  himself  if  it  had 
been  really  as  this  would  re^jresent.  Nay,  if  the  twelve- 
hour  laborers  had  got  a  gold  denarius,  we  may  be  sure 
there  would  have  been  no  murmuring  on  their  lips.  We 
have  to  admit,  therefore,  the  inequality  of  the  treatment 
given  to  these  laborers ;  and  we  must  find  the  explana- 
tion of  it  in  something  else  than  the  quantity  of  their 
work,  —  even  in  that  which  ordinary  earthly  employers 
take  no  thought  of,  namely,  the  spirit  of  the  workers. 

A  third  difficulty  arises  from  the  evident  impossibility 
of  finding  spiritual  analogues  for  each  of  the  particulars 
in  the  parable.  We  can  see  that  God  is  the  householder, 
and  Christ  the  steward,  and  the  vineyard  the  Church. 
But  when  we  go  down  into  details,  and  ask  who  those 
are  who  were  hired  in  the  morning,  and  who  those  are 
who  were  sent  to  work  at  nine,  twelve,  three,  and  five 
o'clock  respectively ;  or  how  it  comes  that  there  should 
be  murmurers  in  the  ranks  of  those  who  have  really 
labored  in  the  Church ;  or  what  the  penny  represents, 
—  we  are  involved  in  uttermost  perplexity,  and  cannot 
give  a  categorical  answer  to  any  one  of  such  inquiries. 

Now,  these  very  difficulties  prove  that  the  interpreta-  > 
tioii  of  the  parable  is  not  to  be  sought  in  any  such  direc-  ' 
tion ;  and  indicate  that  the  grumbling  workers  are  to 
be  taken  rather  as  the  impersonations  of  an  evil  princi- 
ple, that  is  found  existing  sometimes  even  in  Christian 
hearts,  than  as  actual  and  distinct  entities  in  the  Chris- 
tian Church.  They  correspond  in  that  particular,  pre- 
cisely, with  the  elder  brother  in  the  paral)le  of  tlie 
prodigal  son  ;  and  we  are  to  look  for  that  which  they 
represent,  in  a  spirit  that  lurks  sometimes  even  in  the 
hearts  of  believing  men,  rather  than  in  individuals  who 
can  be  sepilratelj  and  distinctly  ideutified  in  tlie  church. 


108  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

There  is  a  good  deal  of  elder-brotherliness,  even  in  men 
of  Christian  character ;  and  there  is  much  of  this  hireling 
disposition,  even  in  those  who  must  still  be  reckoned 
genuine  disciples.  But  wherever  it  is,  it  vitiates  tlie 
character  and  service  to  such  a  degree,  that  those  who 
have  it,  though  they  may  be  first  as  regards  the  dura- 
tion and  magnitude  of  the  work  which  they  have  done, 
are  yet  last  in  the  Divine  appreciation  of  that  work. 

The  parable,  therefore,  is  the  exposure  of  a  spirit, 
rather  than  the  portrait  of  an  individual  or  the  descrip- 
tion of  a  class.  It  is  a  story  with  a  purpose,  rather 
than  an  affair  of  real  life ;  and  that  purpose  is  the  con- 
demnation of  the  hireling  disposition  which  would  seek 
to  deal  with  God  on  the  principle  of  so  much  for  so 
much,  and  would  graduate  reward  in  the  manner  of 
j)roportion  as  we  would  work  a  sum  in  the  rule  of  three. 

This  conclusion  as  to  the  drift  of  the  parable,  which 
we  have  arrived  at  from  the  consideration  of  the  nature 
of  the  difficulties  which  beset  its  interpretation,  is  thor- 
ouglily  confirmed  when  we  look  at  the  occasion  which 
called  it  forth.  Glancing  back  to  the  concluding  section 
of  the  preceding  chapter,  which  ought  not  to  have 
been  thus  arbitrarily  separated  from  what  so  closely 
belongs  to  it,  we  find  that  the  rich  young  man  had  just 
been  tested  by  the  Lord,  through  the  searching  com- 
mand, "If  thou  wilt  be  perfect,  go  and  sell  that  thou 
hast,  and  give  to  the  poor,  and  thou  shalt  have  treasure 
in  heaven ;  and  come,  follow  me."  Unable  to  stand  such 
an  ordeal,  he  had  gone  "  away  sorrowful,  for  he  had 
great  possessions ;  "  and  the  incident  had  led  the  Saviour 
to  remark  how  hard  it  was  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into 
the  kingdom  of  heaven.  But  Peter,  speaking  first,  and 
perhaps  also  giving  expression  to  thoughts  which  were 


THE  LABORERS  IN  THE   VINEYARD.  100 

as  really  present  in  the  minds  of  his  fellow-disci2)les  as 
in  liis  own,  drew  a  self-righteous  contrast  between  them 
and  the  youth  who  had  just  retired,  saying,  "Behold, 
we  have  forsaken  all,  and  followed  thee :  what  shall  we 
have  therefore  ?  "  The  ardent  apostle  was  a  good  man, 
but  the  spirit  which  those  words  evinced  was  not  a  good 
spirit.  It  was  as  if  he  had  said  to  his  Lord,  "  Thou 
didst  promise  to  that  wealthy  young  man,  that  if  he 
gave  up  every  thing,  and  followed  thee,  he  should  have 
treasure  in  heaven.  But  we  have  done  just  what  tliou 
didst  ask  him  to  do :  now  what  shall  we  have  for  that  ?  " 
Knowing  the  true  love  which  was  in  Peter's  heart  for 
him,  in  spite  of  this  apparently  bargaining  inquiry,  the 
Lord  answered  with  great  tenderness,  "  Verily  I  say 
unto  you,  that  ye  which  have  followed  me,  in  the  regen- 
eration when  the  Son  of  man  shall  sit  on  the  throne  of 
his  glory,  ye  also  shall  sit  upon  twelve  thrones,  judging 
the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel.  And  every  one  that  hath  for- 
saken houses  or  brethren  or  sisters,  or  father  or  mother, 
or  wife  or  children  or  lands,  for  my  name's  sake,  shall 
receive  an  hundred-fold,  and  shall  inherit  everlasting 
life;"  that  is  to  say,  "For  you  there  shall  be  special 
honor ;  and  for  all  who  do  as  you  have  done,  there  shall 
be  abundant  compensation  and  everlasting  life  at  last." 
But  the  Saviour  does  not  stop  there.  To  have  done 
that,  would  have  been  to  have  left  unreproved  the  dis- 
position which  showed  itself  in  Peter's  words.  So  he  con- 
tinued thus :  "  But  many  that  are  first  shall  be  last,  and 
the  last  shall  be  first ;  "  as  if  he  had  said,  "  But  take  care 
of  working  in  a  mere  liireling  spirit,  and  for  the  sake  of 
what  you  are  to  get :  for  if  you  do  so,  great  as  your  ser- 
vice may  seem  to  be,  that  will  make  it  small  in  the  siglit 
of  God ;  and  so,  while  to  outward  view  you  are  among 
the  fii'st,  ye  shall  be  ultimately  among  the  last,  for  many 


110  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR. 

that  are  first  shall  be  last,  and  the  last  first."  This 
phrase  is  repeated  by  the  Lord  at  the  end  of  the  para- 
ble, with  the  addition  of  the  words,  "  for  many  be  called, 
but  few  are  chosen."  But  the  reference  is  not  here  to 
eternal  election,  for  the  word  "  chosen  "  is  in  this  place 
employed  much  as  we  use  the  term  "  choice  :  "  "  many 
are  called,  but  few  are  choice."  The  contrast  thus  is 
not  between  the  elect  and  the  non-elect,  so  called,  but 
between  two  classes  of  real  Christians,  —  the  many 
average  and  commonplace  believers  who  have  still  a 
large  measure  of  the  hireling  spirit  in  them,  and  the 
few  first-rate  Christians  who  serve  "all  for  love,  and 
nothing  for  reward."  Observe,  Christ  had  said  to  the 
young  man,  "If  thou  wilt  be  perfect;''''  and  the  '■'•  cliosen'''' 
here  answers  to  the  "perfect"  there.  Those  are  the 
princely  and  right  royal  disciples,  who  labor  for  love  ; 
and  in  the  end,  though  their  service  on  earth  may  seem 
to  be  as  small  as  the  pouring  of  a  vase  of  ointment  on 
the  Saviour's  head,  or  the  casting  of  two  mites  into  the 
treasury,  they  shall  be  first ;  while  such  as  gave  noble 
offerings,  or  did  great  achievements,  if  they  did  so  in  a 
spirit  of  pride  or  ostentation,  or  with  the  hope  of  gain- 
ing something  thereby,  will  be  last. 

This  is  the  thought  which  the  Saviour  has,  as  I 
may  say,  dramatized  in  the  parable  of  these  vineyard 
laborers.  For,  see,  those  wdio  were  sent  first  into  the 
enclosure  to  work  made  a  special  agreement  with  the 
householder.  Mark  the  statement :  "  when  he  had 
agreed  with  the  laborers  for  a  penny  a  day."  In  the 
market-place  they  made  a  definite  demand.  There  was 
the  common  colloquy  in  such  a  case.  "What  is  the 
rate  of  wages  this  morning?"  —  "We  will  go  for  so 
much."  —  "I  will  give  you  only  so  much."  —  " Nay,  we 
must  have  the  sum  we  named,  we  cannot  go  for  less," 


THE  LABORERS  IN  THE   VINEYARD.  Ill 

and  so  forth.  It  was  a  bargain,  so  miicli  for  so  much. 
But  it  was  not  so  with  those  who  went  at  the  third, 
sixth,  nintli,  and  eleventh  hours.  They  left  their  treat- 
ment entirely  in  the  hands  of  the  householder.  They 
trusted  in  his  generosity,  and  did  not  require  any  agree- 
ment. It  was  enough  for  them  that  he  had  said, 
"  Whatsoever  is  right  I  will  give  you."  Tliey  left  it  to 
himself;  but  the  others  would  have  a  specified  sum. 
Tliey  did  their  work  in  faith ;  but  the  others,  like  Peter, 
pressed  the  question,  "  What  shall  we  have  therefore  ?  " 
And  this  difference  in  the  dispositions  of  the  workers 
accounts  entirely  for  the  difference  in  their  treatment 
by  the  householder.  For,  when  the  late  comers  pre- 
sented themselves,  they  were  paid  with  a  denarius  — 
probably  to  their  own  surprise,  since  from  another  para- 
ble we  learn  that  the  rewards  of  the  "  choice  "  disciples 
will  be  astonishing  to  themselves.  But  they  had  trusted 
him,  and  he  would  be  better  to  tliem  than  they  expect- 
ed. When,  however,  the  early  laborers  appeared,  they 
thought  that  they  were  hardly  used  because  they  got 
oidy  a  denarius.  "  The  others  had  received  that:  surely 
lie  was  not  going  to  put  them  on  a  level  with  those  who 
had  known  neither  the  burden  nor  the  heat  of  the  day. 
If  they  who  had  been  only  an  hour  in  the  vineyard 
received  a  penny,  manifestly  those  who  had  been  there 
toiling  for  twelve  hours  should  have  twelve."  —  "But 
no,"  the  householder  replies:  "you  would  have  an  agree- 
ment in  tlie  morning,  and  now  you  must  be  content 
with  it  in  the  evening.  A  bargain  is  a  bargain.  Since 
you  held  me  to  it  before  you  began  to  work,  I  must 
hold  you  to  it  after  you  have  ceased.  My  treatment  of 
the  otliers  is  nothing  to  you.  I  deal  with  my  laborers 
as  I  find  them.  To  the  hireling  I  will  show  myself  a 
hirer ;  but  to  the  trustful  and  confiding  one  who  thinks 


112  THE  PAEABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

less  of  reward  for  his  work  than  of  joy  in  the  work, 
and  leaves  himself  entirely  in  my  hands,  I  will  prove 
myself  more  than  worthy  of  his  confidence.  Take, 
therefore,  what  is  yours,  and  leave  me  to  dis2:)ose  of  what 
is  mine."  Thus  interpreted,  the  parable  is  a  striking 
confirmation  of  the  Psalmist's  words :  "  With  the  merci- 
ful thou  wilt  show  thyself  merciful ;  with  an  upright 
man  thou  wilt  show  thyself  upright ;  with  the  pure  thou 
wilt  show  thyself  pure  ;  and  with  the  froAvard  thou  wilt 
show  thyself  froward."  ^  The  parable  is  the  represen- 
tation of  the  bargaining  spirit,  run  to  seed ;  in  contrast 
with  the  trustful  spirit,  lovingly  rewarded.  The  bar- 
gainers get  only  that  which  they  stipulated  for:  the 
confiding  ones  get  far  more  than  they  would  have 
thought  of  asking.  The  bargainers  are  filled  with  dis- 
satisfaction at  the  generosity  with  which  the  otliers 
were  treated :  the  confiding  ones  are  sent  away  with 
an  exulting  joy  that  they  have  been  treated  so  well. 
The  conduct  of  tlie  first  laborers  represents  what  the 
spirit  which  Peter  manifested  would  ultimately  come 
to,  if  it  were  to  obtain  the  upper  hand :  that  of  the 
others  represents  the  outcome  of  the  spirit  of  love  and 
trust  in  the  choice,  first-rate,  or,  if  j^ou  will,  "perfect" 
Christians.  The  hireling  spirit  is  selfish,  unamiable, 
elder-ljrotherly,  surly.  The  trustful  spirit  is  humble, 
contented,  happy,  choice,  and  is  itself  a  reward  whicli 
is  the  forerunner  of  a  great  deal  more. 

Such,  as  it  seems  to  me,  is  the  main  lesson  of  this 
difficult  parable.  And  if  this  be  a  correct  view  of  the 
matter,  we  need  not  perplex  ourselves  with  the  ques- 
tion who  those  are  that  are  represented  by  the  laborers 
who  began  at  nine,  twelve,  three,  and  five  o'clock  re- 

1  I's.  xviii.  25,  26. 


THE  LABORERS  IX  THE   VINEYARD.  113 

spectively.  It  makes  little  difference  whether  we  under- 
stand the  JcAvs  to  be  the  first,  and  the  Gentiles  to  be 
the  others,  or  whether  we  take  the  first  to  mean  the 
apostles  themselves,  and  the  others  to  be  those  who 
should  come  into  the  kingdom  at  subsequent  dates 
down  through  every  after  age.  The  pivot  of  the  lesson 
is  not  in  any  particular  interpretation  of  that  sort. 
Nay,  as  one  has  admirably  said,  "  The  nature  of  the 
work  in  the  vine}' ard,  and  its  exhausting  toil ;  the  un- 
wearied compassion  of  the  lord  of  the  vineyard,  going 
out  hour  after  hour  to  invite  the  unemphjycd,  —  these 
and  all  other  details  are  but  the  feathers  of  the  arrow, 
helping  it  to  fly  straight  to  its  mark :  but  the  point  is, 
that  those  who  were  first  hired  were  last  paid  and  least 
paid ;  and  this  because  the  first  hired  entered  on  their 
work  in  a  bargaining  spirit,  and  merely  for  the  sake 
of  winning  a  calculated  and  stipulated  remuneration ; 
whereas  the  late  hired  laborers  did  their  work  in  faith, 
not  knowing  what  they  were  to  get,  but  sure  that  they 
would  not  get  less  than  they  deserved."  ^ 

This,  then,  being  tlie  central  thought  of  the  parable, 
we  are  in  a  position,  having  obtained  possession  of  that, 
to  take  note  of  two  tliinor.s  which  mii^lit  otherwise  elude 
our  observation  or  produce  a  false  impression  on  our 
minds.  The  first  is  the  peculiarity  of  the  expression, 
"  many  that  are  first  shall  be  last,  and  the  last  shall  be 
first."  The  parable  teaches  a  change  of  place  between 
the  first  and  the  last,  yet  not  a  change  that  shall  be 
universal.  All  the  first  shall  not  be  last,  and  all  the 
last  shall  not  be  first.  No,  only  many ;  and  that  for  a 
reason  other  than  their  being  either  first  or  last.  They 
shall  not  be  last  simply  because  they  were  first,  nor  first 

1  The  Parables  as  recorded  by  Matthew,  by  Marcus  Dods,  D.D.,  p.  156. 


114  THE  r ARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

simply  because  they  were  last.  But,  first  in  the  magni- 
tude and  extent  of  their  work,  they  shall  be  last  because 
of  the  spirit  in  which  it  was  performed ;  and  last  in  the 
objective  character  of  the  thing  done,  they  shall  be 
first  because  of  the  subjective  disposition  of  which  their 
doing  of  it  was  the  manifestation.  Yet  there  will  be  first 
who  shall  remain  first ;  and  last,  Avho  shall  remain  last. 
If  the  doers  of  great  and  splendid  deeds  did  them  in 
a  loving  and  trustful  spirit,  these,  being  first,  shall 
continue  first;  and  if  the  doers  of  little  and  incon- 
spicuous matters  did  them  in  a  hireling  spirit,  these, 
being  last,  shall  remain  last :  for  the  Lord  of  the  vine- 
yard looks  throughout  at  the  spirit  rather  than  the 
work. 

Again,  this  view  of  the  parable  will  keep  us  from 
so  far  mistaking  its  teaching  as  to  suppose  that  it 
approves  or  recommends  late  coming  into  the  vineyard. 
The  third,  sixth,  ninth,  and  eleventh  hours  here  do  not 
refer  to  different  seasons  of  the  same  individual  life,  — 
as  if  he  who  had  declined  to  come  in  youth  should 
come  at  middle  age ;  and  he  who  had  refused  in  mid- 
dle age  should  come  in  life's  afternoon ;  and  he  who 
had  refused  all  through  life  should  come  in  the  decrepi- 
tude of  old  age,  or  at  the  vevy  approach  of  death.  So 
far  as  appears,  none  of  tliose  who  were  engaged  at  the 
tlie  later  hours  were  in  the  market-place  at  the  earlier. 
The  persons  spoken  to  were  different  each  time ;  and 
those  called  at  the  eleventh  hour,  when  asked,  "  Why 
stand  ye  here  all  the  day  idle  ?  "  could  truthfully  reply, 
"  Because  no  one  hath  hired  us."  It  is  a  truth,  that,  no 
matter  how  late  in  life  a  sinner  comes  to  Jesus,  he  will 
be  accepted ;  but  that  is  not  the  truth  taught  here,  and 
no  one  ought  to  presume  on  such  a  perversion  of  the 
parable  as  that  which  makes  it  mean  that  if  he  refuse  to 


THE  LABORERS  IN   THE   VINEYARD.  115 

obey  God's  call  in  the  morning,  or  at  the  third,  sixth, 
or  ninth  hour,  he  may  have  an  opportunity  of  obey- 
ing it  at  the  eleventh,  and  may  then  come  off  as  well 
as  those  avIio  have  been  Christians  all  their  lives.  No, 
no !  each  of  these  companies  of  laborers  obeyed  the  first 
summons  which  they  received,  and  you  will  be  like 
them  only  if  you  do  the  same.  The  hours  here  are  not 
the  different  seasons  of  the  same  one  life,  but  rather 
the  centuries  of  an  era ;  and  the  teaching  of  that  part 
of  the  story  may  be,  that  we  who  live  far  down  the  ages, 
if  we  will  but  work  for  God  in  the  apostolic  spirit,  in 
self-denial  and  self-sacrifice,  from  love  and  not  from 
hire,  shall  receive  an  apostolic  reward.  The  great  ones 
of  the  Church  were  not  exclusively  among  those  called 
into  it  in  the  c^vXy  stages  of  its  history,  and  long  service 
in  the  nineteenth  century  shall  have  an  equal  honor 
with  martyrdom  in  the  first.  Or,  more  generally  still, 
the  meaning  is,  that  it  is  not  the  time  at  which  the 
service  is  rendered,  or  the  length  and  magnitude  of 
the  service  itself,  that  will  determine  the  reward,  but  the 
spirit  of  the  laborer.  Stephen  and  James,  cut  off  in 
the  beginning  of  their  activity,  before  they  had  well 
entered  the  vineyard,  shall  not  lose  on  that  account, 
but  shall  be  side  by  side  with  Paul,  who  toiled  on 
through  forty  years  of  suffering  for  Christ ;  and  with 
John,  Avho  lingered  in  Ephesus  till  he  reached  an  age 
of  more  than  a  hundred  years.  The  hireling  spirit  in 
any  man,  or  in  any  age,  will  get  simply  and  only  its 
hire  ;  but  the  trustful  dis[)osition  will  always  receive 
"  far  more  exceeding  abundantly  "  above  its  expecta- 
tion. 

The  sum  of  the  matter,  then,  is,  that  the  motive  gives 
its  character  to  the  work ;  and  as  men  cannot  see  the 
motive,  but  must  judge  only  from  the  work,  it  follows 


116  THE  PABABLES  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR. 

that  there  will  be  at  the  last  a  "reversal  of  human  judg- 
ments," since  God  estimates  all  by  that  which  is  invisi- 
ble to  men,  but  which  is  naked  and  open  to  his  sight. 
Many  of  those  whom  men  have  placed  first  shall  then 
be  found  among  the  last;  and  many  of  those  whom 
men  have  been  wont  to  place  among  the  lowest  and  the 
last,  shall  then  be  put  among  the  highest  and  the  first. 
That  is  the  thought  which  Canon  Mozley  has  elaborated 
and  enforced  in  his  great  sermon  on  "  The  Reversal  of 
Human  Judgments,"  contained  in  his  most  suggestive 
volume  of  University  Discourses.  I  call  it  a  great  ser- 
mon, not  because  it  is  strong  either  in  rhetoric  or  illus- 
tration ;  but  because  of  the  grasp  with  which  it  holds 
the  reader  of  it  to  this  one  thought,  and  compels  him, 
no  matter  in  what  department  of  God's  vineyard  he 
may  be  laboring,  to  analyze  his  own  work  and  at  the 
same  time  to  examine  his  own  heart,  making  the  mo- 
tive the  test  of  the  life.  An  English  critic  says  of  the 
book  as  a  whole,  that  there  are  some  sermons  in  it,  "  the 
reading  of  which  would  be  enough  to  change  the  whole 
character  and  life  of  a  man ; "  and  that  to  which  I  refer 
is  one  of  these.  Indeed,  for  my  own  part,  I  am  inclined 
to  put  it  among  the  foremost  of  the  sermons  known  to 
me,  that  have  been  published  in  this  century ;  for  it 
clearly  shows  that  very  efficient  work  may  be  done, 
even  in  God's  vineyard,  by  a  man  in  whom  there  may 
be  very  little  of  the  motive  of  true  love  to  God  inspir- 
ing the  service.  The  church  is  composed,  indeed,  of 
those  who  have  confessed  Christ ;  but  it  is  a  society, 
existing  for  certain  purposes,  and,  as  such,  it  has  its 
machinery  for  the  carrying  out  of  these  purposes,  like 
any  other  society  that  has  been  formed  in  the  world. 
Now,  the  keeping  of  any  part  of  that  machinery  in 
motion  is  in  itself  no  more  a  spiritual  work,  than  the 


TnE  LABORERS  IN   THE   VINEYARD.  117 

carrying-on  of  any  other  machinery;  and  if  it  is  not 
done  with  a  spiritual  motive,  then,  even  though  it  be 
done  for  the  church,  it  is  not  spiritual  work  such  as 
God  can  value  and  reward.  Thus,  in  a  missionary 
society,  the  great  object  is  spiritual;  but  it  has  to  be 
sustained  and  carried  on  like  any  other  business  soci- 
ety; its  books  have  to  be  kept  like  those  of  any 
commercial  firm,  and  he  who  keeps  them  is  not  in  that 
doing  a  spiritual  work,  any  more  than  a  bookkeeper 
in  a  mercantile  house  is  doing  a  spiritual  work.  The 
mercantile  bookkeeper  may  make  his  work  spiritual  by 
doing  it  as  unto  the  Lord ;  but  the  missionary  book- 
keejjer  will  make  his  secular  if  he  does  it  simply  for  his 
wages,  and  as  work.  So,  again,  in  the  office  of  the  min- 
istry, there  is  much  in  common  with  ordinary  depart- 
ments of  life.  It  gratifies  literary  tastes  ;  it  affords 
opportunities  for  study  ;  it  has  associated  with  it  a 
certain  honor  and  esteem  in  the  eyes  of  others ;  it  fur- 
nishes occasions  for  the  thrill  that  every  real  orator  feels 
in  the  delivery  of  a  message  to  his  fellow-men,  and  the 
like.  Now,  if  a  man  is  in  the  ministry  simply  for  these 
kinds  of  enjoyment,  there  is  no  more  spirituality  in  his 
work,  than  there  is  in  that  of  the  UttSrateitr.,  or  the  politi- 
cal orator.  Theirs  may  be  spiritual,  indeed,  if  they  are 
doing  it  out  of  love  to  God ;  but  his  must  be  merely 
secular  if  he  does  it  only  from  such  motives  as  have 
place  in  ordinary  literature  or  eloquence.  You  see,  then, 
how  it  comes,  that  in  the  estimation  of  men  one  may 
stand  very  high,  may  be,  indeed,  reputed  among  the  first 
of  vineyard  laborers,  and  yet  be  placed  among  the  lowest 
and  the  last  by  God.  But  I  cannot  put  this  tliought 
with  any  thing  like  the  force  of  Mozley ;  and,  therefore, 
I  conclude  my  discourse  with  a  paragraph  from  him 
which  may  whet  your  appetite  to  such  a  degree  that 


118  THE  PAEABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

you  will  not  rest  until  you  have  read  the  whole  ser- 
mon:  "The  truth  is,  wherever  there  is  action,  effort, 
aim  at  certain  objects  and  ends ;  wherever  the  flame  of 
human  energy  mounts  up,  —  all  this  may  gather  either 
round  a  centre  of  pure  and  unselfish  desire,  or  round 
a  centre  of  egotism ;  and  no  superiority  in  the  subject 
of  the  work  can  prevent  the  lapse  into  the  inferior  mo- 
tive. In  the  most  different  objects,  this  may  be  the 
same  :  it  is  a  quality  of  the  individual.  Whatever  he 
does,  if  there  is  a  degenerac}^  in  the  temper  of  his  mind, 
it  all  collects  and  gathers,  by  a  false  direction  which  it 
receives  from  the  false  centre  of  attraction,  round  him- 
self. The  subject  or  cause  which  a  man  takes  up  makes 
no  difference.  The  religious  leader  can  feel  alike  with 
the  political,  and  as  strongly,  this  lower  source  of  inspi- 
ration ;  can  be  accompanied  by  this  idolized  representa- 
tion of  self,  this  mirror  in  which  he  sees  himself  growing 
and  expanding  in  life's  area.  Are  the  keen  relish  for 
success,  the  spirit  which  kindles  at  human  praise  and  the 
gusts  of  triumph,  the  feelings  which  accompany  action 
upon  a  theatre,  guaranteed  no  place  in  a  man,  by  his 
having  religious  zeal?  These  are  parts  of  human  na- 
ture ;  and  it  is  not  zeal,  but  something  else,  which  puri- 
fies human  nature.  So  far  as  religion  only  supplies 
a  man  of  keen  earthly  susceiDtibilities,  and  desire  of  a 
place  in  the  world,  with  a  subject,  or  an  arena,  so  far 
that  man  stands  on  the  same  ground  with  a  politician 
who  is  stimulated  by  this  aim.  They  are  the  same 
identical  type  of  men  in  different  spheres.  There  is  a 
conventional  difference  between  them,  but  there  is  one 
moral  heading.  Both  may  be  doing  valuable  work,  im- 
portant service,  in  a  public  sense ;  but  if  you  do  not 
think  the  politician  a  spiritual  man  because  he  is  a  use- 
ful man,  no  more  must  you  think  the  active  man  in  a 


THE  LABORERS  IN  THE   VINEYARD.  119 

religious  sphere  to  be  so.  Spirituality  belongs  to  the  mo- 
tive.'''' ^ 

Now,  that  will  help  us  to  understand  how  it  may- 
come,  that  one  may  have  a  high  reputation  among  men 
for  religious  work,  and  yet  be  among  the  last  when  God 
pronounces  the  verdict ;  for  he  sees,  what  men  cannot 
see,  the  motive  from  which  the  whole  activity  has 
sprung,  and  tests  it  all  by  that.  It  is  a  solemn  thought, 
and  may  well  send  us  to  examine  ourselves.  What  are 
we  in  God's  vineyard,  —  hirelings,  or  trusting,  humble 
laborers,  working  for  the  love  of  Christ?  They  that 
work  for  reward  do  not  get  as  much  as  they  want : 
they  that  work  for  love  get  far  more  than  they  expect. 
And  tlie  moment  we  ask  of  Christ,  "  What  shall  we 
have  therefore  ?  "  we  vitiate  the  quality  of  our  service. 
It  is  the  same  paradox  which  we  have  in  the  words, 
"  He  that  findeth  his  life  shall  lose  it,  but  he  that  losetli 
his  life  for  my  sake  shall  find  it."  He  that  seeketh 
happiness  for  its  own  sake  shall  never  get  it;  but  unto 
him  that  scrveth  God  for  love,  happiness  shall  be  added, 
and  shall  be  itself  a  rich  reward. 

Beautiful  exceedingly  in  this  connection  is  the  story, 
—  mythical,  no  doubt,  in  form,  but  probably  true  in 
substance,  —  that  is  told  concerning  Thomas  Aquinas. 
Worshipping  one  day  in  the  chapel  in  which  he  was 
accustomed  to  i)erform  his  devotions,  it  is  said  that  the 
Saviour  thus  addressed  him  :  "  Thomas,  thou  hast  writ- 
ten much  and  well  concerning  me.  What  reward  sliall 
I  give  thee  for  thy  work?"  Whereupon  he  answered, 
'■'■  Nildl  nisi  te,  Domine,'^  —  "Nothing  but  thyself,  O 
Lord !  "  And  in  very  deed  he  is  himself  the  best  of 
all  his  gifts.     He  is  himself  the  "exceeding  great  re- 

1  Mozloy's  Uuiversity  Sermous,  pp.  80,  81. 


120  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUE   SAVIOUR. 

ward"  of  all  his  people.  Let  the  spirit  of  the  Angelic 
Doctor,  as  enshrined  in  this  simple  story,  fill  our  hearts, 
and  there  will  be  no  room  within  us  for  the  hireling's 
selfishness. 


THE   TWO  SONS. 


VIII. 

THE    TWO    SONS. 

{Matt.  xxi.  28-32.) 

The  meaning  of  tliis  parable  is  determined  for  us  by 
the  occasion  which  called  it  forth.  Questioned  by  the 
chief  priests  and  elders  of  the  people,  as  to  the  nature 
and  source  of  the  authority  which  he  claimed,  our  Lord 
replied  by  promising  to  give  them  a  definite  answer 
when  they  should  tell  him  whether  the  baptism  of  Jolin 
was  from  heaven  or  of  men.  This  placed  them  between 
the  horns  of  a  dilemma:  for  they  knew  that  if  they 
should  say  it  was  of  men,  they  would  provoke  the  an- 
tagonism of  the  people,  who  held  John  as  a  prophet ; 
and  that,  if  they  should  say  it  was  from  heaven,  Jesus 
would  be  ready  with  the  retort,  "  Why  tlien  did  ye 
not  believe  him?"  They  endeavored,  therefore,  to 
evade  both  alternatives  by  alleging  that  they  could  not 
tell  whence  it  was ;  and  this  reply  of  theirs,  which  was 
an  evident  subterfuge,  evoked  the  parable  which  forms 
our  theme  at  this  time. 

C  Putting  before  them  a  hypothetical  case,  he  ques- 
tioned them  as  to  the  conduct  of  the  parties  whom  he 
described  in  it;  and  then,  turning  their  answer  upon 
themselves,  he  virtually  condemned  them  out  of  their 
own  mouths.'^'The  story  in  some  of  its  features  is  not 
unlike  that  which  we  had  before  us  in  our  last  dis- 
course.    Here,  too,'  we  have  the  proprietor  of  a  vine- 


122  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

yard.  But  it  was  not  so  large,  and  he  was  not  so 
wealthy,  as  in  the  former  instance.  He  was  a  small 
freeholder,  not  able  and  not  requiring  to  hire  laborers, 
but  dependent  entirely  on  the  services  of  his  sons.  Ac- 
cordingly, coming  upon  one  of  these  in  the  morning,  he 
said  to  him,  "  Son,  go  work  to-day  in  my  vineyard ; "  but 
was  met  with  the  rude  and  undutiful  reply,  "  I  go  not." 
This  answer  must  have  deeply  wounded  the  father's 
heart ;  but  he  said  nothing,  and,  on  coming  to  his  other 
son,  he  repeated  the  command  to  him  ;  wlio  replied  with 
seeming  alacrity,  "  I  go,  sir,"  or,  as  it  is  simply  in  the 
original,  "  I,  sir,"  —  as  if  the  youth  had  said,  "  You  may 
thoroughly  depend' on  me."  But,  alas!  his  eagerness 
was  only  in  appearance ;  for  he  never  looked  near  the 
vineyard,  and  went  his  way  after  his  own  enjoyment. 
Meanwhile,  however,  the  other  son,  struck,  perhaps, 
with  the  effect  which  his  disobedience  had  produced  on 
his  parent,  thought  better  of  it,  and  went  into  the  vine- 
yard, and  did  the  work  which  he  had  been  requested  to 
perform.  Now,  asks  the  Saviour  at  his  priestly  ques- 
tioners, "which  of  these  two  did  the  will  of  his  father?" 
And,  apparently  without  any  perception  of  the  ref- 
erence of  the  story  to  themselves,  they  replied,  "The 
first;"  wherupon  he  rejoined,  "Verily  I  say  unto  you, 
that  the  publicans  and  the  harlots  go  into  the  kingdom 
of  God  before  you :  for  John  came  unto  you  in  the  way 
of  righteousness,"  —  that  is,  preachiug  righteousness, 
— "  and  ye  believed  him  not,  but  the  publicans  and 
the  harlots  believed  him ;  and  ye,  when  ye  had  seen  it, 
repented  not  afterward,  that  ye  might  believe  him." 

Now,  this  direct  utterance  points  the  moral  of  the 
])arable,  and  furnishes  the  key  to  its  interpretation. 
The  father  is  God;  the  vineyard  is  the  church.  The 
sons  are  two  classes  of  men  to  whom  the  command  to 


THE   TWO  SONS.  123 

labor  in  the  cliiirch  comes  from  God :  the  first  is  tlie 
type  of  openly  abandoned  and  regardless  sinners,  who 
on  receiving  the  command  of  God  defiantly  refuse  obe- 
dience, but  afterward,  on  sober  second  thought,  repent 
and  become  earnest  in  working  the  work  of  God ;  the 
second  is  the  representative  of  the  hypocrites  who  in 
smooth  and  polite  phrase  make  promises  which  they 
never  intend  to  keep,  and  who,  never  changing  their 
mind,  take  no  further  thought  either  of  God  or  of  his 
service- 
In  the  primary  intention  of  our  Lord,  the  particu- 
lar sons  to  whom  the  father  gave  his  command  were 
the  Jews,  to  whom  "at  sundry  times  and  in  divers  man- 
ners" he  had  spoken  through  the  prophets,  and  who 
in  the  Saviour's  own  day  had  the  entire  Old  Testament 
in  their  hands.  But  the  great  majority  among  them 
disregarded  his  words.  Some  openly  set  them  at 
defiance :  others,  professing  in  their  language  a  high 
regard  for  them,  utterly  ignored  them  in  their  con- 
duct. Such  was,  in  the  main,  the  state  of  things  among 
them  when  John  the  Baptist  came  preaching  repentance 
and  the  coming  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  :  and  the 
result  of  his  labors  was,  that  many  of  the  flagrantly 
immoral  were  awakened,  and  became  subjects  of  the 
kingdom ;  while  few  of  the  Pharisees,  chief  priests,  or 
elders  were  brought  to  repentance  through  his  appeals. 
The  former  were  like  the  first  son,  who  did  not  stub- 
boridy  continue  in  his  disobedience,  but  after  a  season 
returned  to  his  filial  devotion  and  duty:  the  hitter  were 
like  the  second  son,  wl\o  said,  and  did  not,  and  persisted 
in  their  inconsistency.    ' 

But  while  the  special  inference  drawn  from  this  para- 
ble by  the  Lord  pointed  its  application  to  those  whom 


124  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUB   SAVIOUB. 

he  was  at  the  moment  addressing,  there  are  beneath  his 
words  great  general  principles  of  permanent  importance, 
which  ought  to  be  seriously  pondered  by  every  hearer 
of  the  gospel.  They  clearly  delineate  two  classes  of 
characters,  which  are  to  be  met  with  in  all  generations, 
and  of  which  the  publicans  and  harlots  on  the  one 
hand,  and  the  Pharisees  and  chief  priests  on  the  other, 
were  only  individual  specimens.  But  as  parables  of  this 
sort,  which  set  before  us  only  one  aspect  of  important 
truth,  are  exceedingly  apt  to  be  perverted  by  being  in- 
terpreted as  if  they  illustrated  the  whole  truth,  it  may 
help  to  preserve  us  from  error,  if  we  distinctly  define 
the  limits  within  which  its  explanation  must  be  kept. 

Observe,  then,  in  the  first  place,  that  the  Lord  does 
not  express  approval,  and  did  not  intend  to  approve,  of 
the  conduct  of  the  first  son,  in  every  respect.  When  the 
father's  command  was  given  to  him,  he  answered  in 
the  bluntest  and  most  unqualified  way,  "  I  will  not." 
There  was  no  hypocrisy  about  him.  He  perhaps  plumed 
himself  on  being  an  honest,  outspoken  fellow,  who 
always  said  what  he  thought,  and  who  hated  to  seem  to 
be  what  he  was  not.  Still,  with  all  his  frankness,  he  was 
disobedient ;  and  we  cannot  suppose  that  the  Saviour 
sanctioned  that.  This  son  is  approved,  not  because  he 
said  "I  will  not,"  but  because  he  repented  of  having 
said  that,  and  proved  the  sincerity  of  his  penitence  by 
doing  that  which  he  had  at  first  refused  to  do.  There- 
fore, let  no  man  suppose  that  it  was  in  any  way  credit- 
able to  this  son,  that  he  said,  "I  will  not."  I  am  the 
more  particular  in  insisting  upon  this,  which  may  seem 
to  some  of  you  a  mere  truism,  because  there  are  many, 
even  in  our  own  times,  who  appear  to  think  that  the 
very  open  frankness  of  their  iniquity  is  a  virtue.  From 
their  mode  of  speech  you  might  imagine  that  they  be- 


THE  TWO   SONS.  125 

lieve  they  will  be  forgiven  for  Leing  sinners,  simply 
because  lliey  Lave  never  pretended  to  be  saints.  Just 
as  sometimes,  after  a  man  has  insulted  you  in  the  most 
blatant  manner,  he  will  speak  as  if  he  thought  he  was 
making  a  merit  of  his  rudeness  by  saying,  "  I  never  go 
beating  about  the  bush,  I  always  say  right  out  what  I 
mean ;  I  am  none  of  your  fawning  flatterers,  and  if  I  have 
any  thing  against  another  I  tell  it  to  him  straight ; "  so 
you  will  occasionally  meet  with  one  who  appears  to 
think  that  liis  sin  ceases  to  be  sin,  because  it  is  com- 
mitted openly  and  without  any  profession  of  religion. 
"As  for  me,"  he  says,  "I  make  no  pretence.  What  I 
seem  to  be,  I  am.  Nobody  can  condemn  me  for  being  a^ 
hypocrite."  And  so,  because  he  is  not  a  hypocrite,  he 
tries  to  make  himself  believe  that  he  is  not  a  sinner 
at  all.  Now,  mark  the  fallacy  that  lies  at  the  root  of 
this  delusion.  The  man  supposes  that  it  is  only  the 
making  of  an  affirmative  answer  to  God's  commands, 
that  involves  the  obligation  to  serve  God.  But  is  it 
really  so  ?  Am  I  not  bound  to  honor  Jehovah,  and 
obey  his  commands,  whether  I  make  a  promise  to  that 
effect  or  not?  Does  not  the  very  making  of  such  a 
promise  spring  out  of  the  obligation  that  is  felt  prior  to 
the  making  of  it?  God  has  a  claim  upon  my  service  as 
my  Creator,  my  Father,  my  Redeemer  through  Jesus 
Christ ;  and  the  very  first  question  that  faces  me  as  a 
moral  agent  is  this:  "Will  you  acknowledge  that  claim, 
and  serve  Jehovah,  or  will  you  not  ? "  If  I  will  not, 
then  my  repudiation  of  it  is  not  the  less  sinful  because 
it  is  expressed  openly,  bluntly,  and  defiantly.  Is  a  man 
any  the  less  God's  enemy  because  he  is  outspoken  in 
his  declaration  of  that  fact?  I  grant,  indeed,  that,  as 
between  such  a  one  and  the  hypocrite,  tlie  hypocrite  is 
the  more  guilty  of  the  two ;  but  the  greater  guilt  of 


126  THE  PABABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUB. 

hypocrisy  must  not  blind  tlie  eyes  of  tlie  abandoned 
man  to  tlie  real  and  awful  wickedness  of  his  open 
iniquity. 

Let  it  be  noted,  in  the  second  place,  that  our  Saviour 
does  not  approve  of  this  son's  conduct  as  a  ivliole^  as 
if  it  were  the  only  good  and  proper  way  of  meeting 
God's  command,  or  as  if  there  would  be  no  danger 
in  our  trying  to  do  all  through  exactly  as  he  did. 
This  man  first  disobeyed,  then  repented,  and  then 
obeyed.  But  because  that  is  the  only  course  which  is 
here  contrasted  with  that  of  the  hypocrite,  it  does  not 
follow  that  there  is  not  a  third  which  is  better  than 
either.  It  was  well  that  this  son  repented ;  but  it 
would  have  been  better  that  he  had  never  refused,  but 
had  gone  right  off  to  the  vineyard;  and  joyfully  com- 
menced his  work.  It  is  needful  to  put  this  ver}^  jjlainly, 
because  many,  especially  among  the  young,  seem  to  set 
the  conduct  of  this  son  before  them  in  its  entirety  as 
the  pattern  which  they  mean  to  imitate.  They  think 
that  they,  too,  will  refuse  for  a  while,  promising  to 
themselves  that  by  and  by  they  will  repent ;  and  their 
views  are  strengthened  by  many  senseless  and  utterly 
immoral  sayings  current  among  men,  such  as  these: 
"  Let  him  sow  his  wild  oats,  and  he  will  sober  down 
by  and  by;"  "Youth  must  have  its  fling,"  and  the  like. 
■/-  But  while  we  are  warranted  to  cherish  the  hope  regard- 
ing such  careless  and  abandoned  sinners,  that  they  may 
yet  repent,  and  while  we  are  commanded  to  labor  and 
to  pray  with  the  view  of  bringing  them  to  repentance, 
it  would  be  an  awfully  perilous  thing  for  any  one  to 
say  deliberately,  '■'■  I  tvill  do  just  as  this  son  did.  I  will 
take  mij  own  pleasiire  for  a  while,  and  then,  when  I''ve  had 
my  satisfaction,  I  tvill  repent  and  do  as  God  requires.''^ 
In  the  case  of  this  youth,  there  was  no  forelook  to  later 


THE   TWO   SONS.  127 

repentance,  when  the  answer  was  first  given.  lie  spoke 
for  the  moment  merely ;  and  there  was,  therefore,  the 
greater  hope  that  he  woukl  ultimately  bethink  himself, 
and  turn  from  his  evil  way.  But  in  the  other  case 
there  is  a  deliberate  counting  on  the  future;  a  wilful 
putting  of  the  soul  into  present  danger,  and  a  com- 
pounding for  that  by  the  promise  to  itself  of  future 
repentance :  and  these,  when  taken  together,  amount  to 
a  "  tempting "  of  the  Holy  Spirit  which  is  dangerously 
near  the  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost.  I  know  of  no 
peril  more  deadly  than  that;  and  just  because  of  the 
,  commonness  of  the  sayings  to  which  I  have  referred, 
I  would  all  the  more  emphatically  warn  you,  my  young 
friends,  of  its  insidiousness.  Have  nothing  to  do  with 
"  wild  oats "  in  any  shape.  You  cannot  dissever  the 
present  from  the  future ;  and  in  the  moral  world,  as  in 
the  natural,  you  shall  reap  what  you  sow,  ivith  an  in- 
crease. If  you  sow  to  the  flesh,  you  will  reap  corrup- 
tion, which  is  flesh  in  its  most  loathsome  condition  ;  if 
you  sow  the  wind,  you  will  reap  the  whirlwind,  which  is 
the  Avind  in  its  most  destructive  violence ;  yea,  even 
although,  like  the  first  of  these  two  sons,  you  should 
afterward  repent,  you  may  depend  upon  it  that  God 
will  make  you,  in  one  form  or  another,  to  "  possess  the 
sins  of  your  youth."  In  the  sorrowful  remembrance  of 
the  wasted  past ;  in  the  deep  and  saddening  conviction 
that  many  precious  opportunities  have  been  irrecover- 
ably lost ;  or  in  the  consequences,  mental,  moral,  or 
physical,  which  your  early  follies  will  leave  upon  you, 
God  will  make  you  to  possess  the  sins  of  your  youth. 
But  you  may  never  repent.  You  may  never  have  the 
opportunity  to  do  so ;  or,  if  you  have,  you  may  not 
have  the  disposition  to  improve  it,  for  sin  may  have 
weakened  your  resolution,  and  taken  your  will  captive. 


128  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

Therefore  let  me   urge   you   to   give  prompt,  present, 
sincere  obedience  to  Jehovah's  call. 

But  looking  now  at  the  other  son,  I  ask  you  to  ob- 
serve, in  the  third  place,  that  our  Lord  does  not  design 
to  condemn  the  making  of  a  promise  to  God,  when  that 
is  done  sincerely  and  performed  earnestly.  This  second 
son  was  not  blamed  because  he  said  promptly,  and  ap- 
parently also  cheerfully,  "  /  c/o,  s/r,"  but  because  he  did 
not  mean  what  he  said.  His  purpose  was  to  get  for  the 
moment  the  approval  of  his  father,  and  at  the  same  time 
to  take  his  own  way  and  enjoy  his  own  pleasure.  He 
represents  the  hypocrite,  who  seeks  by  a  fair  profession 
to  combine  the  services  of  God  and  mammon.  But  be- 
cause he  is  condemned  for  his  hypocrisy,  we  must  not 
suppose  that  it  is  wrong  to  confess  that  we  are  God's 
sei'vants,  provided  we  do  that  sincerely.  Has  not  the 
Lord  Jesus  in  many  passages  spoken  of  the  duty  of  con- 
fessing him  before  men  ?  and  does  not  Paul  in  a  well- 
known  passage  declare  that  "  if  we  shall  confess  with 
our  mouths  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  shall  believe  in  our 
hearts  that  God  hath  raised  him  from  the  dead,  we  shall 
be  saved  "  ?  ^  It  cannot  be,  therefore,  that  any  thing  in 
tliis  parable  should  discourage  the  making  of  such  a 
confession.  What  is  here  condemned  is  the  making  of 
it  insincerely,  —  the  saying  of  one  thing  by  the  lips,  and 
of  another  thing  in  the  heart  and  by  the  life.  We 
should  see  to  it,  when  we  confess  Christ,  that  we  are 
acting  a  truthful  part ;  but  if  we  really  love  him,  it  is 
our  duty  and  our  privilege  to  confess  him,  and  we  shall 
find  that  strength  and  fellowship  and  happiness  come 
to  us  in  the  wake  of  our  doino;  so.    \ 

1  Rom,  X.  9. 


THE   TWO   SONS.  129 

But  now,  turning  from  the  limits  within  which  our  in- 
terpretation of  this  parable  must  be  kept,  let  ns  proceed 
to  the  consideration  of  those  truths  which,  within  these 
limits,  it  may  be  fairly  regarded  as  enforcing. 

T.  And  here,  first,  I  mention  the  natnre  of  the  de- 
mand which  God  makes  on  every  one  to  whom  the  gos- 
pel comes.  "  Go  work  to-day  in  my  vineyard."  Mark 
how  practical  true  religion  is :  "  (ro,  work.^^  The  test 
of  sincerity  is  not  in  words,  but  in  deeds ;  not  in  knowl- 
edge, but  in  the  acting-out  of  our  knowledge ;  not  in 
profession,  but  in  practice.  The  question  of  the  Sav- 
iour to  his  followers  is  not,  "  What  say  ye  more  than 
others  ?  "  but,  "  What  do  ye  more  than  others  ? "  and 
on  another  occasion  he  speaks  after  this  fashion  :  "  If 
3'e  know  these  things,  happy  are  ye  if  ye  do  them." 
Words  are  valuable  only  in  so  far  as  they  are  the  truth- 
ful expression  of  an  inward  spirit,  wliich  will  prompt 
also  to  appropriate  deeds ;  and  we  can  prove  that  we 
love  God,  only  by  serving  him.  Speech  may  be  decep- 
tive ;  indeed,  a  noted  diplomat  once  said  that  the  chief 
purpose  of  language  is  to  conceal  thought:  but  the 
habitual  bent  of  the  life  is  always  a  genuine  index  of 
the  character.  By  works,  then,  we  make  manifest  that 
we  are  the  children  of  God.  Observe,  however,  the  ex- 
pression which  I  have  used.  Works  are  the  manifesta- 
tion of  our  love  to  God,  not  the  means  of  procuring  his 
love  for  us.  We  labor,  not  to  get  God  to  love  us,  but 
because  we  already  love  him ;  and  we  love  him  because 
he  first  loved  us.  Or,  to  put  it  in  another  way :  works 
are  the  indications  that  we  possess  true  spiritual  life, 
not  the  means  of  our  becoming  alive.  We  labor  be- 
cause we  live,  and  not  that  we  may  be  made  alive. 
^Mark,  again,  the  peculiar  nature  of  the  work  by  which 


130  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

our  love  and  life  are  to  be  manifested.  "Go,  ork  m 
mj/  vineyard.''''  Matthew  Henry  has  said  here  very 
quaintly,  "  By  the  sin  of  Adam  we  were  turned  out  to 
work  upon  the  common,  and  to  eat  the  herb  of  the 
field ;  but  by  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  we  are  called 
again  to  work  in  the  vineyard."  This  labor  consists  in 
working  out  our  own  salvation,  and  building  up  our 
own  character,  according  to  the  plan  furnished  by  the 
Apostle  Peter  when  he  says,  "  Add  to  your  faith  vir- 
tue, .and  to  virtue  knowledge,  and  to  knowledge  tem- 
perance, and  to  temperance  patience,  and  to  patience 
godliness,  and  to  godliness  brotherly  kindness,  and  to 
brotherly  kindness  charity."  ^  Or,  in  another  view,  this 
labor  is  the  cultivation  to  the  fullest  extent  of  that 
cluster  of  grapes  which  is  the  proper  fruit  of  the  true 
vine,  and  which  Paul  has  thus  enumerated :  "  love,  joy, 
peace,  long-suffering,  gentleness,  goodness,  faith,  meek- 
ness, temperance."  ^  Nor  is  this  all ;  for  it  is  also  real 
vineyard  work  to  labor  for  the  extension  of  the  vine- 
yard itself,  by  the  diffusion  of  the  gospel  among  those 
who  know  it  not.  By  such  works  of  faith,  and  labors 
of  love,  and  patience  of  hope,  we  are  to  show  that  we 
are  indeed  the  sons  of  God.'\^ 

Mark,  again,  the  promptitude  of  the  obedience  which 
is  here  required :  "  Go  work  to-day.''''  "  Now  is  the  ac- 
cepted time."  There  are  only  two  passages,  so  far  as  I 
remember,  in  all  the  Scriptures,  that  refer  to  "  to-mor- 
row ; "  and  they  are  these :  "  Boast  not  thyself  of 
to-morrow,  for  thou  knowest  not  what  a  day  may  bring 
forth."  "  Be  not  anxious  for  the  morrow,  for  the 
morrow  shall  have  anxiety  enough  for  the  things  of 
itself.  Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof." 
And,  though  the  meaning  of  each  is  distinct  from  that 

1  2  Pet.  i.  5,  G,  7.  '^  Gal,  v.  22,  23. 


THE   TWO   SONS.  ICl 

of  the  other,  ^ct  they  both  agree  in  emphasizing  the 
importance  of  to-daij.  By  the  work  of  the  })resent, 
more  than  Ly  the  promises  which  we  make  for  the 
future,  do  we  make  manifest  what  Ave  are  as  in  the 
sight  of  God;  and  if,  when  he  says  "to-day,"  we  reply 
" to-morroii\''  then  we  are  as  reallj'  guilty  of  disobeying 
him,  as  if  we  had  used  the  words  of  this  son  in  the 
parable,  and  flatly  answered,  "I  will  not."  Beloved, 
let  us  be  faithful  with  ourselves  here,  and  see  if  we  are 
not  involved  in  this  condemnation.  Are  there  not 
many  among  us  who  would  shrink  from  saying  to  the 
Lord,  "  I  will  not,"  Vv^hile  yet  we  are  habitually  post- 
poning the  i)erformance  of  duty,  and  are  daily  increas- 
ing our  arrears  of  service  to  him  ?  AVhich  of  us  will 
dare  to  say  that  yesterday,  for  example,  he  left  nothing 
undone  of  all  that  God  in  his  providence  put  before  him 
to  be  performed  on  his  behalf  ?  Let  us  be  on  our  guard, 
therefore,  in  this  matter ;  for  procrastination  grows  upon 
us  the  more  we  yield  to  it.  Our  work  accumulates,  and 
our  time  for  doing  it  diminishes,  all  because  we  are  not 
fully  alive  to  the  importance  of  to-day.  "  To-morrow," 
says  the  proverb,  "  is  the  day  on  which  idle  men  work, 
and  fools  reform."  Let  us  show  our  industry  by  begin- 
ning to  woik  for  God  now,  and  our  wisdom  by  reform- 
ing at  once,  for  still  the  command  runs,  "  Go  work 
to-day ;''"'  and  evermore,  as  we  waver  in  our  obedience 
thereto,  the  Holy  Ghost  repeats  the  warning,  "  To-daij^ 
if  ye  will  hear  his  voice,  harden  not  your  hearts.'''' 

Finally,  here  mark  the  tender  nature  of  the  appeal 
which  God  makes  to  every  man  in  this  command:  '■'•Son, 
go  work!'''  Son?  Yes;  for  God  is  our  Father.  lie 
has  a  father's  right  to  our  affection  and  obedience,  espe- 
cially if  we  confess  that  he  has  redeemed  us  from  sin 
and  ruin  by  the  blood  of  Christ.     True,  we  read  of  his 


132  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

having  introduced  us  into  "  the  glorious  liberty  of  the 
children  of  God."  But  there  is  here  no  contradiction, 
for  the  true-hearted  son  delights  to  do  his  father's  will, 
and  in  his  estimation  that  service  is  perfect  freedom. 
He  accounts  no  sacrifice  too  great  to  be  made,  and  no 
toil  too  severe  to  be  undergone,  in  his  service ;  and  all 
this  does  not  cease  to  keep  hold  of  him  when  he  comes 
to  the  discovery  that  God  is  his  Father.  His  first  utter- 
ance thereupon,  like  that  of  his  Lord,  is,  "  Wist  ye  not 
that  I  must  be  about  my  Father's  business  ? "  And 
still,  as  men  seek  to  beguile  him  from  his  purpose,  his 
reply  is,  "  I  must  work  the  works  of  him  that  sent  me, 
while  it  is  day :  the  night  cometh,  when  no  man  can 
work."  Sonship  is  not  incompatible  with  service.  It 
only  transmutes  that  service  into  joy.  The  heir-apparent 
to  the  British  crown  has  for  his  motto  the  words,  Ich 
dien,  "  I  serve ; "  and  only  as  he  acts  up  to  that  noble 
ideal,  will  he  prove  himself  worthy  of  the  throne  which 
he  is  one  day  to  fill.  Nay,  higher  yet,  it  is  written  of 
the  Son  of  God,  that,  "  though  he  were  a  Son,  yet  learned 
he  obedience  by  the  things  which  he  suffered."  So  far, 
therefore,  from  being  incompatible  with  sonship,  serv- 
ice is  its  most  loving  expression ;  and  we  shall  prove 
ourselves  enemies  and  aliens  if  we  refuse  to  render  it. 
This  is  an  unerring  test  by  which  we  may  determine 
whether  or  not  we  are  the  children  of  God ;  and  it  is 
important  that  we  apply  it  faithfully,  for  only  as  we 
stand  that  test,  shall  we  enjoy  the  fulfilment  of  the 
precious  promise,  "They  shall  be  mine,  saith  the  Lord, 
in  the  day  wlien  I  make  up  my  jewels ;  and  I  Avill  spare 
them,  as  a  man  spareth  his  own  son  that  serveth  him." 

IT.  But  a  second  thing  brought  out  in  this  parable  is 
the  danger  connected  with  the  making  of  an  insincere 


THE  TWO  SONS.  133 

confession  of  God.  To  the  chief  priests  and  elders 
the  Saviour  said,  "  The  publicans  and  harlots  go  into  the 
Idngdoin  before  you."  He  did  not  allege  that  it  was 
impossible  for  them  to  enter  it,  or  that  their  conversion 
was  an  utterly  hopeless  thing ;  but  he  gave  them  to 
understand  that  the  difficulties  in  their  way  were  greater 
than  those  which  had  to  be  encountered  by  the  openly 
abandoned.  Now,  it  is  important  to  define  the  nature 
of  these  difficulties.  They  were  not,  to  use  a  conven- 
ient though  somewhat  cumbrous  phraseology,  objective, 
or  lying  outside  of  themselves ;  but  subjective,  in  the 
state  of  their  own  hearts.  Outside  of  the  soul  of  any 
sinner,  there  are  no  obstacles  in  the  way  of  his  salvation. 
But  the  particular  condition  of  each  sinner's  heart 
determines  for  him  the  particular  difficulties  with  which 
he  has  to  contend  in  entering  the  kingdom  by  submit- 
ting himself  to  Christ;  and  what  the  Saviour  here 
means  to  say  is,  that  such  difficulties  are  greater  in  the 
case  of  one  who  has  made  an  insincere  confession  of 
submission  to  God  than  in  that  of  open  and  abandoned 
transgressors.  The  state  of  soul  produced  by  that  in- 
sincerity makes  it  harder  for  him  to  enter  the  kingdom 
than  it  is  for  the  publicans  and  the  harlots  to  repent  of 
tlieir  iniquities.  For  he  is  satisfied  with  liimself ;  wliile 
they,  for  the  most  part,  are  filled  with  loathing  of  them- 
selves. He  thinks  that  he  has  done  well  because  he  lias 
said,  "I  go,  sir:"  they  know  tliey  have  done  ill  l)ccause 
t he}' have  said  so  flagrantly,  "I  go  not."  He  has  de- 
luded himself  with  the  belief  that  lie  has  done  all  that 
is  required,  when  he  has  simpl}^  promised  that  he  will  do 
it,  as  many  a  man  cheats  himself  with  the  notion  that 
lie  has  paid  his  debt  when  he  has  only  given  his  bill 
for  the  amount:  they  are  conscious  that  they  have  not 
only  done  nothing  in  the  way  of  serving  God,  but  that 


134  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR. 

they  have  also  committed  grievous  wickedness  against 
him.  Thus  it  comes,  that  when  appeals  to  repentance 
are  made  by  some  faithful  preacher,  such  as  John  the 
Baptist,  to  both  alike,  he  complacently  puts  them  from 
him,  as  not  meant  for  him,  because  he  has  promised  to 
do  as  God  commands  ;  while  they  are  stirred  up  to  cry, 
"  What  must  we  do  to  be  saved  ? "  and  they  give 
themselves  no  rest  until  they  have  returned  unto  the 
Lord.  Self-righteousness  is  thus  a  greater  obstacle  to 
one's  entering  the  kingdom  than  sinful  indulgence,  and 
there  is  more  hope  of  the  conversion  of  a  great  sinner 
than  there  is  of  that  of  a  great  Pharisee ;  or,  in  other 
words,  it  is  a  harder  matter  to  get  rid  of  righteous  self 
than  of  sinful  self. 

LBut  over  and  above  that  feeling  of  self-complacency 
which  is  produced  by  insincerity,  we  must  not  forget  to 
mention  that  there  is  also  a  hardening  influence  connected 
with  it,  which  tends  to  make  the  heart  less  receptive  of 
the  truth.  It  blunts  the  conscience ;  it  dims  the  mor.al 
perceptions  ;  it  weakens  the  will ;  it  paralyzes  the  ener- 
gies. Indeed,  we  may  say  that  there  is  perhaps  no  habit 
more  subversive  of  all  the  nobler  principles  of  our 
nature  than  that  of  continually  saying,  "  I  go,  sir," 
without  going  after  all.  Still,  let  us  be  thankful  that 
the  salvation  of  such  as  are  guilty  of  this  habitual  in- 
sincerity is  not  an  utter  impossibility.  They  may  yet 
enter  the  kingdom  if  they  will  repent;  and  if,  in  de- 
scribing the  character  of  this  second  son  in  the  parable, 
I  have  held  up  a  mirror  in  which  any  one  of  you  has 
seen  himself,  let  such  an  one  realize  at  once  the  danger 
of  his  position,  and  cry  earnestly  unto  the  Lord  in 
David's  prayer,  "  Unite  my  heart,  and  I  will  run  in  the 
way  of  thy  commandments.  I  will  praise  thee,  O  Lord, 
with  my  whole  heart."    -. 


THE  TWO  SONS.  135 

III.  Rut  in  this  parable  it  is  very  clear,  in  the  third 
place,  that  the  Saviour  meant  to  encourage  sinners,  even 
of  the  vilest  description,  to  repent,  and  believe  the  gos- 
pel. "  The  publicans  and  harlots  enter  the  kingdom  :  " 
there  is,  therefore,  salvation  for  the  chief  of  sinners. 
No  guilt  is  too  great  to  be  washed  away  by  the  blood 
of  Christ.  No  heart  is  too  bad  to  be  renewed  by  the 
Holy  Spirit.  Listen  to  these  words:  "Come  now,  and 
let  us  reason  together,  saitli  the  Lord.  Though  your 
sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  as  white  as  snow : 
though  they  be  red  like  crimson,  they  shall  be  as  wool." 
"  He  is  able  to  save  to  the  uttermost  all  that  come  unto 
God  by  him,  seeing  he  ever  liveth  to  make  intercession 
for  them  ;  "  and  to  the  penitent  thief  who  hung  by  his 
side  the  Lord  Jesus  said,  "  To-day  shalt  tliou  be  with 
me  in  paradise."  Therefore  let  no  sinner  despair. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  let  no  sinner  presume  or  ima- 
gine, that,  because  it  is  said  here  that  the  publicans  and 
harlots  went  into  the  kingdom  before  the  chief  priests 
and  elders,  tlierefore  open  sinners  may  be  saved  with- 
out repentance.  Tliis  lirst  son  repented  of  his  disobe- 
dience ;  and  so  it  is  only  when  a  sinner  repents,  that 
he  is  forgiven  and  acce[)ted.  (^Very  close  is  the  relation 
wliich  God  has  established  between  a  sinner's  turninor 
from  sin  and  receiving  pardon.  Take  that  matchless 
promise  in  the  first  chapter  of  the  prophecies  of  Isaiah, 
wliich  I  have  but  now  repeated,  and  in  what  connection 
do  you  lind  it?  Here  is  the  context:  "Wash  you; 
make  you  clean ;  put  away  the  evil  of  your  doing  from 
before  mine  eyes  ;  cease  to  do  evil ;  learn  to  do  well ; 
seek  judgment ;  relieve  the  oppressed ;  judge  the  fath- 
erless ;  plead  fur  the  widow.  Come  now,  and  let  us 
reason  together."^  In  the  same  way  we  have  elsewhere 
in  Isaiah  this  injunctiun  :  "  Let  the  wicked  forsake  his 


136  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

way,  and  the  unrighteous  man  his  thoughts ;  and  let 
him  return  unto  tlie  Lord,  and  he  will  have  mercy  upon 
him,  and  to  our  God,  for  he  will  abundantly  pardon." 
So,  too,  the  apostles  everywhere  jDreached  repentance  m 
connection  with  the  remission  of  sins.  If,  therefore, 
we  would  be  faithful,  we  must  declare  that  there  is 
salvation  for  the  guiltiest  and  the  vilest,  if  they  will 
repent,  and  return  to  God  through  Jesus  Christ.  Not 
that  tlieir  repentance  deserves  the  pardon,  but  that 
there  can  be  no  pardon  without  rei)entance.  Jesus 
Christ  will  save  no  man  in  his  sins ;  but  he  will  save 
any  penitent,  no  matter  how  openly  immoral  he  may 
have  been,  from  his  sins.  Anew,  therefore,  I  repeat 
the  glad  refrain  of  Peter's  pentecostal  sermon,  "  Repent 
and  be  baptized,  every  one  of  you,  in  the  name  of  Jesus 
Christ,  for  the  remission  of  sins,  and  ye  shall  receive 
the  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost."  And  what  is  it  to  re- 
pent? Let  Bishop  Wilberforce  make  answer:  "It  is 
to  take  the  first  turn  to  the  right." 


A 


THE  WICKED  HUSBANDMEN.  137 


IX. 

THE   IVICKED    HUSBANDMEN. 

(Matt.  xxi.  33-44. J 

This  parable,  following  close  on  that  which  we  con- 
sidered in  our  last  discourse,  deals  with  the  same  general 
subject ;  but  it  carries  it  to  a  higher  application,  and 
gives  it  a  wider  scope.  The  parable  of  the  two  sons 
exposes  the  treatment  given  by  the  chief  priests  and 
elders  to  John  the  Baptist ;  this  of  the  wicked  husband- 
men holds  up  to  view  the  rejection  of  Jesus  himself  by 
the  Jewish  people  as  a  whole,  and  utters  a  solemn  warn- 
ing of  the  consequences  that  would  ensue  therefrom. 
The  story  is  at  once  very  simple  and  very  sad.  A 
wealthy  householder,  before  setting  out  for  a  long  ab- 
sence from  home,  marked  off  a  large  space  of  ground 
suitable  for  a  vineyard,  planted  it  with  vines,  enclosed 
it  with  a  hedge  or  a  wall  to  keep  out  animals  and  ma- 
rauders, digged  in  it  a  wine-press,  or  more  properly  a 
wine-fat,  into  which  the  juice  of  the  grapes  might  flow, 
and  built  in  it  a  tower  for  the  accommodation  of  the 
watchers  and  laborers  generally.^  He  did  every  thing, 
in  short,  that  was  necessary  to  make  it  a  well-appointed 
vineyard,  sparing  neither  labor  nor  expense  to  furnish 
it  with  the  best  in  each  department  of  cultivation. 
Having  done  all  this,  he  let  it  out  to  husbandmen  on 
certain  stipulated  terms.     They  were  to  have  the  full 

1  See  Edersheim's  Life  and  Times  of  Jesus  the  Christ,  vol.  ii.  p.  422. 


138  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

management  of  the  vineyard,  and  he  was  to  have  a 
rental  of  some  sort  for  their  use  of  his  property. 
Among  .the  Jews,  as  Edersheim  ^  tells  us,  "  there  were 
three  modes  of  dealing  with  land.  According  to  one 
of  these,  the  laborers  employed  received  a  certain  por- 
tion of  the  fruits,  say  a  third  or  a  fourth  of  the  produce. 
In  such  cases  it  seems,  at  least  sometimes,  to  have  been 
the  practice,  besides  giving  them  a  jDortion  of  the  prod- 
uce, to  provide  also  the  seed  (if  it  was  a  field),  and  to 
pay  wages  to  the  laborers.  The  other  two  modes  of 
letting  land  were,  either  that  the  tenant  paid  a  money 
rent  to  the  proprietor,  or  else  that  he  agreed  to  give  the 
owner  a  definite  amount  of  produce,  whether  the  har- 
vest had  been  good  or  bad."  He  adds,  "There  can 
scarcely  be  a  doubt  that  it  is  the  latter  kind  of  lease 
which  is  referred  to  in  the  parable,  the  lessees  being 
bound  to  give  the  owner  a  certain  amount  of  fruits  in 
their  season." 

After  making  such  an  arrangement,  the  owner  went 
into  a  far  country,  much  as  one  here  might  go  to 
Europe  for  a  long  residence  there ;  and  while  there  he 
sent  accredited  agents,  here  called  his  servants,  that  they 
might  receive  in  his  behalf  the  stipulated  portion  of 
fruits.  But  the  husbandmen  had  no  intention  of  giv- 
ing him  any  thing ;  and  they  cruelly  maltreated  his 
messengers,  beating  one,  stoning  another,  and  killing 
another.  One  would  have  thought  that  this  would  have 
provoked  the  proprietor  to  retaliate ;  but  he  simply  sent 
other  messengers  of  higher  rank  and  greater  importance 
than  the  former.  These,  however,  were  only  similarly 
abused ;  and  then,  as  a  last  resource,  the  householder 
said,  "  They  will  reverence  my  son."  So  he  sent  "his 
one  son,  his  well  beloved,"  as  Mark  has  it ;  but   his 

1  See  Edersheim's  Life  ami  Times  of  Jesus  the  Christ,  vol.  ii.  p.  423. 


THE   WICKED  HUSBANDMEN.  139 

appearance  only  stirred  the  laborers  to  greater  fury,  for 
they  said  one  to  another,  "  This  is  the  heir ;  come,  let 
us  kill  him,  and  let  us  seize  on  his  inheritance."  "  The 
owner  is  away,"  —  as  if  they  had  exclaimed,  —  "  he  will 
never  come  back ;  if  we  kill  his  heir,  there  will  be  no 
one  to  dispute  our  claim  to  the  property :  therefore  let 
us  slay  him,  and  take  possession."  So  "  they  caught 
liim,  and  cast  him  out  of  the  vineyard,  and  slew  him." 

So  far  the  story.  Now  turning  to  his  hearers,  the 
Lord  asked,  "When  the  lord,  therefore,  of  the  vine- 
yard cometh,  what  will  he  do  unto  those  husband- 
men?" And  they,  apparently  unconscious  that  they 
were  pronouncing  their  own  doom,  replied,  "  He  will 
miserably  destroy  those  wicked  men,  and  will  let  out 
his  vineyard  unto  other  husbandmen,  which  shall  ren- 
der him  the  fruits  in  their  seasons."  To  this  answer 
the  Lord  Jesus  responded  by  making  application  to 
himself  and  them  of  a  well-known  passage  in  the  Book 
of  Psalms,  and  uttering  a  warning  regarding  the  dan- 
ger and  destruction  of  those  who  persistently  and 
defiantly  rejected  him.  But  we  shall  leave  the  consid- 
eration of  these  until  we  have  settled  the  meaning  of 
the  parable  to  which  they  are  appended. 

The  householder  very  clearly  here,  like  the  father  in 
the  former  parable,  is  God.  But  what  is  the  vineyard? 
A  common  answer  is  that  it  represents  the  Jewish 
Church,  and  there  is  no  doubt  that  in  Isaiah's  beautiful 
allegory  "the  vineyard  of  the  Lord  of  hosts  is  the 
house  of  Israel."  So,  again,  the  vine  of  the  eightieth 
Psahu  is  the  Jewish  Church  which  was  brought  out  of 
Egypt  and  planted  in  the  Holy  Land.  And  we  cannot 
foTgct  that  the  Lord  Jesus  himself  represents  the  union 
between  himself  and  his  Church  under  this  figure :  "  1 
am  the  vine,  ye  are  the  branches."     But  it  is  clear  to 


140  THE  PABABLE8  OF  OUR  SAVTOUE. 

me,  in  spite  of  all  these  anajogies,  that  in  this  parable 
the  vineyard  with  its  appurtenances  and  belongings 
does  not  stand  for  the  people  at  all.  It  rather  signifies 
the  special  advantages  and  opportunities  which  were 
given  to  the  people  as  the  chosen  seed,  and  in  virtue  of 
God's  covenant  with  them.  It  would  be  running  the 
parable  into  the  ground,  and  allowing  fancy  to  guide 
where  reason  alone  should  rule,  if  we  were  to  under- 
take to  say  what  is  meant  especially  by  the  hedge,  and 
what  by  the  wine-fat,  and  what  by  the  tower.  We 
prefer,  therefore,  to  content  ourselves  with  the  general 
assertion  that  the  vineyard,  with  all  in  it,  represents  the 
theocratic  privileges  enjoyed  by  the  Jewish  nation  under 
the  Mosaic  institute,  the  blessings  which  were  peculiar 
to  them  above  all  other  peoples  on  the  face  of  the  earth, 
and  which  came  to  them  as  the  children  of  God's 
covenant. 

Now,  for  these  blessings  they  had  to  give  a  certain 
return.  Privilege  entails  responsibility.  The  more  one 
receives,  the  more  he  must  account  for.  They  who  had 
enjoyed  so  many  more  favors  at  the  hand  of  God  than 
other  nations,  ought  to  have  been  just  so  much  better 
than  other  nations,  and  ought  to  have  cheerfully  ren- 
dered to  him  the  service  which  he  sought.  Holy  lives, 
loving  service,  cheerful  and  devoted  loyalty  to  him- 
self,—  these  were  the  fruits  God  sought  as  the  return 
for  the  giving  of  the  theocracy  and  its  blessings  to 
them.  Now,  this  interpretation  of  the  vineyard  as  de- 
noting the  covenant  advantages  of  the  Jews,  or  what 
the  Lord  in  the  forty-third  verse  calls  "  the  kingdom 
of  God,"  as  enjoyed  by  the  Israelites,  leads  to  the 
identification  of  the  husbandmen  with  the  Jewish  peo- 
ple as  a  whole.  Some  have  tried  to  restrict  the  ref- 
erence of  the  husbandmen  to  the  rulers  and  teachers 


TUE   WICKED  HUSBANDMEN.  141 

among  the  Jews ;  but  it  was  not  from  them  alone  that 
the  kingdom  was  taken.  It  was  from  the  Jewish  nation 
as  such ;  and  therefore  the  nation  as  a  whole,  and  not 
merely  any  one  class  in  it,  must  here  be  symbolized  by 
the  husbandmen.  But  if  that  be  so,  it  becomes  easy  to 
explain  who  the  servants  that  were  sent  to  claim  the 
fruits  for  the  householder  represent ;  for,  in  this  view 
of  the  parable,  they  stand  for  the  prophets  who  came 
in  Jehovah's  name,  at  different  stages  in  the  history  of 
Israel,  and  of  whom  many  were  grievously  entreated  at 
the  hands  of  the  people.  Nor  is  it  difficult  to  discover 
what,  in  this  aspect  of  the  case,  is  suggested  by  the 
removal  of  the  householder  from  the  vicinity  of  the  vine- 
yard into  a  far  country ;  for,  while  it  is  true  that  God  is 
everywhere  present,  it  is  also  true  that  Jehovah  in  the 
early  history  of  the  Hebrew  tribes  was  more  conspicu- 
ously with  and  among  them  than  he  was  at  any  subse- 
quent stage  of  their  national  career.  As  Trench  has 
finely  said,  "At  Sinai,  when  the  theocratic  constitu- 
tion was  founded,  and  in  the  miracles  which  accom- 
panied the  deliverance  from  Egypt  and  the  bringing 
into  Canaan,  the  Lord  may  be  said  to  have  openly  mani- 
fested himself  to  Israel,  but  then  to  have  withdrawn 
himself  for  a  while,  not  speaking  again  to  the  people 
face  to  face,  but  waiting  in  patience  to  see  what  the 
law  would  effect,  and  what  manner  of  works  the  people 
would  bring  forth."  ^  Or,  as  Goebel  has  expressed  it, 
"He  withdrew  into  expectant  passivity,  leaving  room 
for  the  spontaneous  development  of  the  nation  on  the 
soil  of  the  theocracy  and  under  the  influence  of  its 
institutions."'^ 

But   the  result,  as   indicated  by  their  treatment  of 

1  Notes  on  tho  Parables,  p.  197. 

2  Goebel's  Parables  of  Jesus,  p.  342. 


142  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR. 

his  commissioned  servants,  was  that  they  ungratefully 
rebelled  against  him.  In  the  days  of  Elijah,  Jezebel 
cut  off  the  prophets  of  the  Lord,  and  Ahab  subjected 
Micaiah  to  the  foulest  indignity.  In  the  reign  of  Joash, 
the  people  conspired  against  Zechariah  the  son  of 
Jehoiada,  on  whom  the  Spirit  of  God  came ;  and  they 
stoned  him  with  stones.  Jeremiah  was  cruelly  abused 
by  those  to  whom  he  went  as  the  messenger  of  the 
Lord ;  and  the  tradition  has  always  been,  that  Isaiah 
was  sawn  asunder  by  the  order  of  Manasseh.  Thus 
the  account  given  in  the  parable  of  the  treatment  of 
the  servants  by  the  husbandmen  was  literally  true 
of  the  reception  given  by  the  Jewish  nation  to  the 
prophets :  "  they  beat  one,  and  stoned  another,  and 
killed  another."  Last  of  all  came  the  Son  of  God  in 
the  person  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  him  they  crucified. 
There  is  thus  a  clear  reference  to  himself  in  this  part 
of  the  parable ;  and  thereby  the  Lord  at  once  indicates 
his  knowledge  of  the  designs  of  his  enemies,  and  uses 
means  if  possible  to  bring  them  to  a  better  mind.  The 
words  were  spoken  just  two  days  after  the  triumphal 
entry  into  Jerusalem,  and  on  the  Tuesday  of  the  cruci- 
fixion week :  so  we  may  be  sure  that  they  went  right  to 
the  hearts  of  those  who  were  already  conspiring  to  bring 
about  his  death ;  and  that  enables  us  to  understand  how 
it  came,  that  when,  according  to  Luke,  Jesus  himself 
declared  what  the  householder  would  do,  in  these  words  : 
"  He  shall  come  and  destroy  these  husbandmen,  and 
shall  give  the  vineyard  to  others,"  they  cried  out  in  dis- 
may, "  God  forbid  !  "  They  got  just  then  a  momentary 
sight  of  him  and  of  themselves ;  but,  alas !  they  deliber- 
ately closed  their  eyes  again,  and  went  defiantly  on  in 
the  course  that  led  to  ruin  both  national  and  individual. 
Here,  then,  is  the  interpretation  of  the  parable  :  The 


THE   WICKED  HUSBANDMEN.  143 

householder  is  God ;  the  vine3'"ard  is  the  theocratic  privi- 
leges enjoyed  by  those  who  were  the  chosen  people  of 
God,  and  as  such  were  placed  by  him  under  the  law 
of  Moses ;  the  husbandmen  are  the  Jews  themselves ; 
the  removal  of  the  householder  into  a  far  country  is 
the  withdrawal  of  God  from  such  open  manifestation 
of  himself  as  he  made  on  Sinai,  into  "  expectant  passiv- 
ity," waiting  for  the  result  to  develop  itself  freely  in 
the  choice  of  the  people  themselves ;  the  servants  sent 
were  the  prophets,  who  were  often  cruelly  maltreated 
by  those  to  whom  they  were  commissioned ;  the  son  is 
the  Lord  Jesus  himself,  the  crucifixion  of  whom  was  the 
climax  of  the  nation's  iniquity,  for  which  the  kingdom 
of  God  was  taken  from  it,  and  given  to  the  Gentiles. 

Now,  with  this  key  in  our  hands  we  shall  be  the 
better  able  to  unlock  the  meaning  of  the  solemn  utter- 
ances which  the  Lord  Jesus  added  to  this  probing  par- 
able. They  are  three.  The  first  is  a  quotation  from 
the  hundred  and  eighteenth  Psalm,  which  he  very  evi- 
dently appropriates  to  himself.  If  you  look  back  to  the 
beginning  of  the  chapter,  you  will  find  there  the  ac- 
count of  his  entrance  in  triumph  into  the  temple,  and 
of  the  offence  which  the  chief  priests  and  scribes  took 
at  the  song  of  the  children  on  that  memorable  occasion. 
Read  verse  15:  "And  when  the  chief  priests  and  the 
scribes  saw  the  wonderful  things  that  he  did,  and  the 
children  crying  in  the  temple,  and  saying,  Ilosanna 
to  the  Son  of  David,  they  were  sore  displeased,  and 
said  unto  him,  Hearest  thou  what  these  say  ?  And 
Jesus  saith  unto  them,  Yea :  have  ye  never  read.  Out  of 
the  mouth  of  babes  and  sucklings  thou  hast  perfected 
praise  ?  "  Now,  the  remarkable  thing  is,  that  from  the 
same  Psalm  out  of  which  tlie  children  took  their  song, 
the   Lord  extracts   these  words  of  reproof;  as  if  he 


144  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

would  say  to  them,  "  The  children's  instinct  was  cor- 
rect when  they  greeted  me  with  their  joyful  hosannas 
as  the  Son  of  David.  I  may  not  look  like  the  Messiah 
now,  but  recall  the  words  of  that  same  ode  in  which 
they  found  their  salutation.  Is  it  not  written  there, 
The  stone  which  the  builders  rejected,  the  same  is 
become  the  head  of  the  corner :  this  is  the  Lord's  doing, 
and  it  is  marvellous  in  our  eyes?  You  may  reject  me; 
I  know,  indeed,  that  it  is  in  jour  hearts  to  crucify  me ; 
and  when  you  have  succeeded  in  doing  that,  you  think 
that  there  is  nothing  more  to  fear  from  me.  But  have 
a  care :  it  is  not  the  first  time  in  your  history  that  the 
rejected  stone  has  been  made  at  last  the  most  important 
in  the  building.  The  words  of  the  psalm,  indeed,  have 
become  proverbial,  but  all  previous  fulfilments  of  the 
proverb  have  been  but  the  prophecies  and  forecast 
shadows  of  that  most  terrible  illustration  of  it,  which 
shall  be  furnished  by  your  rejection  of  me  ;  for  the  cross 
will  be  but  the  lever  that  lifts  me  to  the  headship  of 
the  kingdom ;  and  then  "  —  and  this  is  the  second  of  the 
sayings  which  he  has  appended  to  the  parable — "the 
kingdom  of  God  shall  be  taken  from  you,  and  given  to 
a  nation  bringing  forth  the  fruits  thereof."  You  have 
had  your  probation  of  privilege,  but  it  is  rapidly  coming 
to  an  end ;  and  if  you  persist  for  but  a  few  days  longer 
in  the  course  which  you  are  now  pursuing,  your  limit 
will  be  reached,  and  the  advantages  which  you  have 
forfeited  will  be  transferred  to  others.  "  From  him  that 
hath  not,  shall  be  taken  away  even  that  he  hath." 
Thus  in  this  saying  there  were  enfolded  the  dethrone- 
ment of  the  Jews  from  their  pre-eminence  among  the 
nations,  the  withdrawal  from  them  of  their  exceptional 
privileges,  the  destruction  of  their  much-loved  Jerusa- 
lem, and  the  calling  of  the  Gentiles,  —  all  because  they 


TUE   WICKED  nUSBANDMEN.  145 

knew  not  the  day  of  their  visitation,  and  killed  him, 
whom  in  their  inmost  hearts  they  had  been  compelled 
to  recognize  as  the  heir  and  representative  of  the  King 
of  kings. 

Then,  having  another  illustration  suggested  to  him 
by  the  figure  of  the  stone,  he  goes  on  to  his  third  utter- 
ance: "And  whosoever  shall  fall  on  that  stone  shall  be 
broken;  but  on  whomsoever  it  shall  fall,  it  shall  grind 
him  to  powder."  First,  the  stone  is  a  passive  thing, 
lying,  as  it  were,  on  the  way,  but  yet  so  formidable  and 
dangerous,  that  even  to  stumble  over  it  would  prove 
injurious  to  the  man  that  falls  upon  it.  Then,  as  if  the 
vision  of  Nebuchadnezzar  had  risen  up  before  him,  and 
he  actually  saw  the  stone  cut  from  the  mountain  with- 
out hands,  and  bounding  down  with  ever-accelerating 
speed  into  the  valley  below,  he  adds,  "  but  on  whomso- 
ever it  shall  fall,  it  will  grind  him  to  powder."  Here, 
therefore,  are  two  different  treatments  of  the  Lord,  with 
their  respective  consequences,  foreshadowed  to  us.  The 
first  is  that  of  those  who  merely  for  a  season  stumble 
over  certain  difficulties  regarding  him.  They  are  not 
satisfied,  it  may  be,  concerning  his  deity ;  they  are 
offended  perhaps,  as  even  Peter  was  once,  at  the  idea 
of  his  dying  upon  a  cross  ;  or  they  cannot  unravel  all 
the  myster}^  of  his  atonement:  therefore  they  do  not 
yet  accept  him.  That  is  bad.  That  is  hurtful.  They 
fall  over  the  stone,  and  are  broken.  Not  only  are  they 
still  unsaved  by  him,  but  their  consciences  become 
blunted  ;  they  learn  the  habit  of  procrastination  ;  their 
wills  are  enfeebled,  and  their  hearts  are  hardened. 
If  they  will  not  accept  this  stone  as  the  foundation  on 
which  to  rear  their  characters,  their  whole  moral  natures 
cannot  but  be  injured.  For  we  must  build  either  on 
Christ  or  on  self.     To  build  on  Christ  js  tp  be  found§4 


146  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

on  a  rock,  and  to  have  the  stability  of  that  rock  im- 
parted to  the  fabric  which  we  raise ;  but  to  build  on 
self  is  to  be  founded  on  the  sand,  and  when  the  storm 
comes  there  will  be  a  dread  catastrophe,  and  corre- 
sponding injury.  Yet  such  injury  may  not  be  absolutely 
irreparable  if  at  least  it  occur  in  time  ;  for  those  who 
have  been  thus  hurt  may  be  stirred  up  thereby  to  alter 
the  whole  plan  of  their  lives,  and  begin  anew  by  the 
acceptance  of  Christ  as  their  onl}'-  Saviour  and  Sove- 
reign, and  in  that  case,  though  they  can  never  be  quite 
as  they  might  otherwise  have  been,  they  shall  be  saved 
eternally. 

But  if  one  persistently  and  defiantly  rejects  Christ, 
and  justifies  thereby  the  Jews  in  their  treatment  of  him, 
he  does  not  fall  over  the  stone,  but  the  stone  falls  upon 
him,  and  he  is  eternally  destroyed.  "  Ground  to  pow- 
der^''  —  what  a  terrible  expression  I  describing  utter, 
hopeless,  remediless  perdition.  One  of  the  greatest  of 
living  English  preachers  has  in  this  connection  a  very 
striking  passage  which  I  cannot  refrain  from  quoting. 
"  I  remember,"  says  Dr.  McLaren  of  Manchester,  "  away 
up  in  a  lonely  Highland  valley,  where  beneath  a  tall 
black  cliff,  all  weather-worn  and  cracked  and  seamed, 
there  lies  at  the  foot,  resting  on  the  greensward  that 
creeps  round  its  base,  a  huge  rock  that  has  fallen  from 
the  face  of  the  cliff.  A  shepherd  was  passing  beneath 
it ;  and  suddenly,  when  the  finger  of  God's  will  touched 
it,  and  rent  it  from  its  ancient  bed  in  the  everlasting 
rock,  it  came  down,  leaping  and  bounding  from  pinnacle 
to  pinnacle,  —  and  it  fell ;  and  the  man  that  was  beneath 
it  is  there  now,  ground  to  powder.  Ah,  my  brethren  !  " 
he  proceeds,  "  that  is  not  my  illustration  ;  that  is  Christ's. 
Therefore  I  say  to  you,  since  all  that  stand  against  him 
shall  become  as  'the  chaff  of  the  summer  threshing- 


THE   WICKED  HUSBANDMEN.  147 

floor,'  and  be  swept  utterly  away,  make  him  the  founda- 
tion on  which  you  build;  and  when  the  rain  sweeps 
away  every  refuge  of  lies,  you  will  be  safe  and  serene, 
builded  upon  the  Rock  of  ages."  ^ 

Here,  my  hearers,  I  might  well  conclude ;  but  I  tarry 
only  to  condense  the  teachings  of  this  solemn  parable 
into  three  portable  and  practical  remarks. 

The  first  is,  that  the  greatest  privilege  a  man  can 
enjoy  is  to  have  the  kingdom  of  God  intrusted  to  him. 
The  Jews  were  the  most  favored  people  of  antiquity. 
They  had  the  oracles  of  God  committed  to  them.  When 
others  were  in  darkness,  they  enjoyed  the  light  of  rev- 
elation ;  but,  instead  of  thanking  Jehovah  for  these 
things,  they  only  plumed  themselves  upon  them,  as  if, 
simply  because  they  had  received  them,  they  were  bet- 
ter than  their  neighbors.  We  condemn  them  for  that ; 
but  let  us  take  heed  that  we  are  not  therein  uttering 
our  own  doom.  For  we  are  now  where  they  were,  — 
nay,  our  privileges  are  vastly  more  exalted  than  theirs. 
What  they  had  merely  in  type  and  symbol,  we  have  in 
reality.  They  had  but  the  Old  Testament,  we  enjoy 
also  the  New ;  while  the  blessings  of  Palestine  were  as 
nothing  compared  with  those  of  America.  The  king- 
dom of  God  has  not  merely  come  nigh  us,  but  it  is  in 
the  midst  of  us.  From  our  very  earliest  years  we  have 
known  all  about  the  old,  old  story  of  Jesus  and  his 
love ;  and  Christ  has  been  proclaimed  to  us  in  sermons, 
and  sung  to  us  in  songs,  and  commended  to  us  in  books, 
on  every  hand.  We  are  tempted  to  say.  What  could 
God  have  done  more  for  any  people  than  he  has  done 
for  us?  We  have  touched  the  high-water  mark  of 
privilege  ;  and  there  is  not  a  sinner  in  the  land  who 
may  not  hear,  if  he  chooses,  of  the  great  salvation. 

1  McLaren's  Sermons,  first  series,  p.  13. 


148  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUB  SAVIOUB. 

You  have  heard  of  it  often ;  you  are  hearing  of  it 
now.  Will  you  realize  that  in  so  doing  you  are  enjoy- 
ing the  very  highest  favor  that  a  sinful  man  can  know  ? 
There  is  nothing  better  that  even  God  can  give  you, 
unless  you  are  willing  to  accept  the  Saviour ;  and  then 
he  will  come  in  and  sup  with  you,  and  you  with  him. 

But  now,  if  this  be  so,  it  follows  in  the  second  place, 
that  the  greatest  sin  a  man  can  commit  is  to  reject 
Christ.  That  is  the  sin  of  sins,  the  condemning  sin; 
and  every  man  to  whom  the  gospel  is  preached  must 
either  commit  that  sin,  or  accept  the  Xord  as  his  Sav- 
iour. He  cannot  be  neutral.  He  may  try  to  hold  the 
matter  in  suspense,  like  Pilate  who  said,  "  What  shall  I 
then  do  with  Jesus  who  is  called  Christ?  "  but  he  must 
either  accept  or  reject  at  last.  He  can  do  no  otherwise  ; 
and  if  he  rejects,  he  sins  against  the  greatest  grace  and 
the  brightest  light. 

Then,  finally,  there  follows  this  terrible  inference : 
The  darkest  doom  is  that  of  those  who  are  guilty  of 
this  greatest  sin.  It  will  be  more  tolerable  for  Sodom 
and  Gomorrah  in  the  day  of  judgment  than  for  us,  if 
we  persistently  reject  Christ  and  his  salvation.  "  On 
whomsoever  "  that  stone  "  shall  fall,  it  will  grind  him  to 
powder."  O  beloved !  will  you  ponder  these  words 
well,  and,  if  you  have  not  yet  received  Christ,  open 
you  hearts  this  very  moment,  and  let  him  in  ? 


THE  ROYAL  MARRIAGE-FEAST.  149 


X. 

THE   ROYAL    MARRIAGE-FEAST. 

(Matt.  xxii.  1-14.) 

This  parable,  like  that  of  the  wicked  husbandmen, 
belongs  to  the  Passion  Week  of  our  Lord,  and  deals 
with  the  same  general  subject  which  it  illustrates.  But 
as  that  was  a  development  of  the  thought  which  un- 
derlay the  story  of  the  two  sons,  so  this  is,  in  many 
respects,  an  advance  upon  that  of  the  wicked  husband- 
men. What  in  that  was  represented  as  a  repudiation 
of  responsibility,  is  in  this  portrayed  as  a  despising  of 
favor ;  the  son  of  the  householder,  in  that,  is  the  king's 
son  in  this  ;  while,  in  the  episode  of  tlie  wedding  gar- 
ment, the  application  of  the  principle  beneath  the  par- 
able is  widened  so  as  to  include  under  it  not  only  those 
who  refuse  the  invitations  of  the  gospel,  or  contemptu- 
ously ignore  them,  but  also  those  who  insult  the  giver 
of  these  invitations,  even  when  they  profess  to  be  ac- 
cepting them.  The  former  parable  stopped  with  the 
declaration  that  the  vineyard  would  be  given  to  other 
laborers ;  but  this  goes  forward  to  the  time  when  that 
prophecy  should  be  fulfilled,  and  has  a  word  of  warning 
to  those  who  should  then  come  into  the  enjoyment  of 
the  privileges  which  the  Jews  had  forfeited.  We  can- 
not read  it,  therefore,  without  feeling,  that,  as  the  crisis 
of  the  cross  is  drawing  near,  the  Lord  "  reveals  himself 
in  ever-clearer  light  as  the  central  person  of  the  king- 


^v 


150  THE  P ARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

dom,"  and  sets  before  liis  hearers  not  only  the  greatness 
of  the  privilege,  but  also  the  vastness  of  the  peril,  that 
is  involved  in  the  possession  of  the  gospel. 

The  parable  may  be  described  as  a  drama  in  three 
acts.  A  king  is  about  to  give  a  splendid  feast  in 
honor  of  the  marriage  of  his  son.  Great  preparations 
had  been  made  for  the  occasion.  Long  before  the  ap- 
pointed day,  invitations. had  been  sent  to  those  whose 
presence  at  the  banquet  was  desired,  to  notify  them 
of  the  time  which  had  been  fixed,  so  that  they  might 
know  to  keep  clear  of  all  other  engagements,  and  be 
ready  to  celebrate  the  wedding  with  every  demonstra- 
tion of  enthusiasm.  Then,  on  the  morning  of  the  day 
on  which  the  festival  was  to  be  held,  and  in  accordance 
with  a  custom  prevalent  in  the  East,  servants  were 
sent  out  to  "  call  them  that  were  bidden."  But  they 
were  met  with  a  blunt  refusal.  Those  who  had  been 
invited  "  would  not  come."  It  was  a  disappointment  to 
the  king:  yet  perhaps  they  had  acted  ignorantly  and 
thoughtlessly,  so  he  gave  them  an  opportunity  for  re- 
consideration; and  later  in  the  day  he  sent  other  ser- 
vants to  them,  to  say  in  his  name  to  them,  "  Behold,  I 
have  prepared  my  dinner ;  my  oxen  and  my  fatlings  are 
killed,  and  all  things  are  ready :  come  unto  the  mar- 
riage." But  they  made  light  of  the  whole  affair,  as  if 
it  were  a  matter  of  no  importance  whatever.  Some  of 
them  went  on  with  their  business  on  the  farm  and  in 
the  store,  as  usual ;  deeming  it  of  more  consequence  by 
far  to  make  a  little  gain,  than  to  accept  the  royal  invi- 
tation. Others  of  tliem  were  actuated  by  such  bitter 
animosity  to  the  monarch,  that  "  they  took  the  servants, 
and  entreated  them  spitefully,  and  slew  them."  This 
conduct  on  the  part  of  those  whom  he  was  seeking  to 
honor  and  bless  was  of  such  a  nature  that  the   king 


THE  ROYAL  MARRIAGE-FEAST.  151 

could  not  pass  it  by  with  impunity ;  therefore  "  he  sent 
his  armies,  and  destroyed  those  murderers,  and  burned 
up  their  city."  This  is  the  first  act  of  the  drama ;  and 
the  curtain  falls  upon  a  scene  not  unlike  that  which 
was  witnessed  when  the  troops  of  Titus  stormed  the 
walls  of  Jerusalem,  and  gave  its  gorgeous  temple  to 
the  flames. 

But  the  feast  was  not  to  be  postponed  because  those 
first  invited  to  it  would  not  come  to  its  enjoyment; 
and  therefore,  in  the  second  act,  we  hear  the  king  com- 
manding his  servants  to  go  into  the  highways,  and  bid 
to  the  marriage  "  as  many  as  they  could  find."  Then 
we  see  the  servants  going  forth,  and  gathering  men  of 
every  class  and  condition,  irrespective  of  former  char- 
acter or  present  rank,  and  asking  them  to  the  marriage. 
Next  we  behold  the  motley  multitude  trooping  into  the 
palace,  and  taking  their  places  at  the  tables  which  had 
been  prepared.  This  is  the  second  act ;  and  the  curtain 
falls  upon  a  festive  hall,  crowded  with  guests  from  the 
east  and  from  the  west,  from  the  north  and  from  the 
south,  all  apparently  filled  with  gladness  at  the  grand 
event  they  celebrate. 

But  once  again  the  curtain  rises.  The  scene  is  the 
same  ;  but  the  king  has  come  in  to  look  upon  the  guests, 
and  his  entrance  is  the  signal  for  the  outburst  of  rap- 
turous applause.  When  that  has  ceased,  the  royal  eye 
scans  the  tables,  and  marks  the  appearance  of  each 
guest.  For  a  time  nothing  but  joy  is  seen  upon  his 
countenance;  but  by  and  by  it  assumes  an  aspect  of 
sorrow,  mingled  with  sternness  and  decision,  for  he 
sees  one  guest  "  who  had  not  on  a  wedding  garment." 
These  garments  he  had  himself  provided :  wliy  should 
any  one  refuse  to  wear  them?  So  he  went  to  tlie  per- 
son who  had  so  insulted  him,  and  said,  "  Friend,  how 


152  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR. 

earnest  thou  in  hither  not  having  a  wedding  garment  ?  " 
and  he  was  speechless.  Then  said  the  king  to  the  ser- 
vants, "  Bind  him  hand  and  foot,  and  take  him  away, 
and  cast  him  into  outer  darkness ;  there  shall  be  weep- 
ing, and  gnashing  of  teeth."  For  it  is  one  thing  to  be 
called  to  the  feast,  and  another  thing  to  acce]3t  the  call 
in  its  true  and  proper  significance.  "  Many  are  called, 
but  few  are  chosen."     Such  is  the  story. 

Now,  in  the  interpretation  it  will  be  well  to  preserve 
the  division  into  three  parts  which  I  have  indicated. 
Of  the  first  part,  then,  the  central  idea  is  the  invitation 
of  certain  parties  to  a  royal  marriage-feast.  The  rela- 
tion of  the  Jews  to  their  God  is,  all  through  the  Old 
Testament,  spoken  of  under  the  figure  of  tlie  marriage 
covenant :  and  in  the  marriage  of  the  king's  son  here, 
we  have  hinted  at  the  truth  which  is  broadly  stated 
by  Paul  when  he  speaks  of  the  Church  as  the  wife  of 
the  Lord  Jesus ;  and  by  John,  when  he  calls  it  "  the 
bride,  the  Lamb's  wife."  But  it  will  be  observed,  that, 
as  the  parable  proceeds,  the  marriage  idea  drops  almost 
entirely  out  of  sight,  and  that  of  the  feast  alone  re- 
mains ;  for  the  main  design  of  the  Lord  was  to  teach 
certain  truths  under  the  similitude  of  a  banquet.  What, 
then,  does  this  feast  represent?  Plainly,  whatever  it 
may  be  used  here  to  symbolize,  a  feast  suggests  provis- 
ion, excellent  in  quality,  abundant  in  quantity,  and 
varied  in  character,  in  the  enjoyment  of  which  a  mul- 
titude of  guests  have  great  fellowship  and  happiness. 
Now,  nothing  will  fit  that  description  better  than  the 
spiritual  banquet  which  is  set  before  men  in  the  bless- 
ings of  the  gospel.  There  we  have  presented  to  us, 
pardon  of  sin,  favor  with  God,  peace  of  conscience,  the 
exceeding  great  and  precious  promises  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, access  to  the  throne  of  grace,  the  comforts  of  the 


THE  ROYAL  MARIil AGE-FEAST.  153 

Holy  Spirit,  and  the  well-grounded  assurance  of  eternal 
life  in  heaven.  In  the  common  participation  of  these 
things,  believers  have  high  and  holy  communion  with 
each  other  and  with  God,  which  fills  their  souls  with 
the  purest  and  most  exalted  happiness ;  so  that  to  them 
the  ancient  oracle  has  been  fulfilled,  and  "  in  this  moun- 
tain shall  the  Lord  of  hosts  make  unto  all  people  a 
feast  of  fat  things,  a  feast  of  wines  on  the  lees,  of  fat 
things  full  of  marrow,  of  wines  on  the  lees  well 
refined."  ^ 

This,  then,  being  the  feast,  the  interpretation  of  the 
other  matters  is  not  difiicult.  The  king  is  God,  and 
the  son  is  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  whose  marriage  is  his 
union  to  the  Church,  which  he  is  ultimately  to  present 
to  himself  "without  spot  or  wrinkle  or  any  such  thing." 
The  first  bidding  to  this  feast  was  given  to  the  Jews 
by  the  prophets,  under  the  Old-Testament  dispensation, 
in  appeals  of  which  those  in  tlie  fifty-fifth  chapter  of 
Isaiah  may  be  taken  as  a  specimen.  The  servants  sent 
forth  on  the  feast-day,  to  call  them  that  were  bidden, 
are  the  preachers  in  the  lifetime  of  our  Lord  upon  the 
earth,  and  may  be  held  as  including  John  the  Baptist, 
the  Lord  himself,  and  especially  the  twelve  apostles 
and  the  seventy  disciples,  who,  commissioned  by  the 
Saviour,  went  forth  through  the  length  and  breadth  of 
Palestine,  telling  their  countrymen  everywhere  that  the 
kingdom  of  God  was  come  nigh  them ;  and  the  result  of 
their  mission  as  a  whole,  though  there  were  here  and 
there  individual  exceptions,  is  only  too  truly  described 
in  the  graphic  words,  "  they  would  not  come."  The 
"  other  servants  "  sent  out  later  in  the  day  to  say,  "  Be- 
hold, I  have  prepared  my  dinner ;  my  oxen  and  my  fat- 
lings  are  killed,  and  all  things  are  ready :  come  unto 

Isa.  XXV.  6. 


154  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

the  marriage,  "  —  are  the  preachers  of  the  gospel  after 
Pentecost,  who  were  commissioned  to  proclaim  salvation 
full  and  free  to  all  who  would  believingly  and  peni- 
tently accept  its  blessings,  but  who  still  for  a  season 
restricted  their  labors  to  the  Jews  ;  and,  though  they 
met  with  signal  successes  in  man}^  places,  yet  the  result 
of  their  work  as  a  whole  was  that  the  Jewish  nation  as 
such  rejected  their  overtures.  Some  did  so  in  the  most 
disdainful  manner,  not  deeming  them  worth  any  atten- 
tion whatsoever,  because  their  minds  were  exclusively 
devoted  to  worldly  affairs ;  but  others  were  exasperated 
by  the  very  offers,  because  the  presentation  of  pardon 
involved  in  it  a  tacit  accusation  of  sin,  and  they  turned 
upon  the  preachers  with  persecuting  fury,  stoning 
Stephen,  killing  James  with  the  sword,  and  haling 
others,  women  as  well  as  men,  to  prison,  —  all  of  which 
may  be  found  described  in  the  early  chapters  of  the 
book  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles.  Nay,  we  need  not 
confine  ourselves  to  the  early  chapters ;  for  all  through 
that  book  we  see  that  the  Jews,  to  whom  Paul  every- 
where made  the  first  offer  of  the  gospel,  were  always 
the  most  bitter,  the  most  implacable,  and  the  most 
pertinacious  persecutors  of  the  apostles  and  their 
assistants. 

The  destruction  of  those  who  had  maltreated  the  ser- 
vants, and  the  burning-up  of  their  city,  represent  the 
rejection  of  the  Jews,  which  culminated  in  the  over- 
throw of  Jerusalem,  when  the  Roman  armies,  wliich 
were  "  the  rod  of  God's  anger,"  took  away  the  place  of 
the  Jewish  nation,  and  scattered  the  people  over  the 
world.  Thus  far,  therefore,  the  parable  of  the  marriage- 
feast  runs  parallel  with  that  of  the  wicked  husband- 
men. 

But  now,  in  the  mission  of  the  servants  to  the  high- 


THE  ROYAL  MARRIAGE-FEAST.  155 

•ways,  there  is  superadded  the  calling  of  the  Gentiles. 
The  wedding  jnust  be  furnished  with  guests ;  and  there- 
fore, though  the  Jews  despised  the  invitation,  others 
■were  called  in  their  room.  As  Paul  said  to  his  fellow- 
countrymen  in  the  synagogue  of  the  Pisidian  Antioch, 
"It  was  necessary  that  the  word  of  God  should  first 
have  been  spoken  to  you  ;  but  seeing  ye  put  it  from  you, 
and  judge  j^ourselves  unworthy  of  everlasting  life,  lo ! 
we  turn  to  the  Gentiles ;  "  ^  and  they,  or  at  least  many 
of  them,  gladly  received  its  message  of  mercy.  This  is 
the  second  part  of  the  parable. 

Yet  a  warning  had  to  be  given  to  them  also,  and  this 
is  furnished  in  the  concluding  section  of  the  story.  To 
understand  it  thoroughly,  we  must  believe  that  the  not 
unusual  custom  of  providing  the  guests  with  the  re- 
quired wedding  garment  had  been  followed  by  the  host, 
but  that  this  man  had  refused  to  avail  himself  of  the 
offer,  and  had  defiantly  and  contemptuously  pushed  past 
the  attendants,  and  taken  his  place  at  the  table,  alto- 
gether disregarding  the  commands  of  the  monarch,  and 
thinking  perhaps  that  his  own  dress  was  too  good  to 
cover.  As  a  recent  writer  has  said,^  "  Similar  audacity 
in  entering  a  king's  presence  without  putting  on  the 
robe  sent  by  him  for  that  purpose  has  been  known  to 
cost  a  prime  minister  his  life.  A  traveller  who  was 
invited,  with  the  ambassadors  he  accompanied,  to  the 
table  of  the  Persian  king,  says,  '  We  were  told  by  the 
officer,  that  we,  according  to  their  usage,  must  hang 
the  splendid  vests  that  were  sent  us  from  the  king,  over 
our  dresses,  and  so  appear  in  his  presence.  The  ambas- 
sadors at  first  refused ;  but  the  officer  urged  it  so  ear- 

1  Acts  xiii.  4G. 

2  The  Parables  as  recorded  by  Matthew,  by  Marcus  Dods,  D.D., 
pp.  224,  225. 


156  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

nestly,  alleging,  as  also  did  others,  that  the  omission 
would  greatly  displease  the  king,  since  all  other  envoys 
observed  such  a  custom,  that  at  last  they  consented,  and 
hanged,  as  we  did,  the  splendid  vests  over  their  shoul- 
ders.' "  Thus  this  rejection  of  the  preferred  garment  by 
this  man  in  the  parable  indicated  a  lack  of  sympathy 
with  the  giver  of  the  feast,  and  a  positive  disaffection 
toward  him,  as  really  as  the  refusal  of  the  invitation  by 
the  others  had  done ;  and  so  a  punishment  equally  severe 
with  that  which  had  been  meted  out  to  them  was  visited 
on  him,  for  he  was  excluded  from  the  feast,  —  put  out 
into  the  darkness  of  the  night,  to  misery,  unsheltered 
and  unrelieved. 

Now,  what  does  this  wedding  garment  represent  ? 
Many  have  been  forward  to  answer  that  it  symbolizes 
the  robe  of  Christ's  all-perfect  righteousness ;  but  my 
conviction  is,  that  its  significance  goes  deeper  even  than 
that.  When  Paul  exhorts  the  Romans  to  "  put  on  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,"  he  is  urging  them  to  holiness  of 
character,  rather  than  to  become  partakers  of  the  justify- 
ing righteousness  of  Christ ;  and  in  that  injunction, 
as  it  seems  to  me,  we  liave  the  interpreting  clause  of 
this  wedding  garment.  The  insisting  upon  the  wearing 
of  this  festive  dress  is  thus,  as  Goebel  has  expressively 
put  it,^  "nothing  but  the  requirement,  indispensably 
grounded  in  the  ethical  nature  of  the  kingdom  of  God, 
that  every  one  who  would  actually  have  part  in  its 
blessedness  [should]  acquire  the  corresponding  moral 
character,  and  therefore  obtain  the  moral  righteousness 
that  corresponds  to  the  holy  will,  supreme  in  God's 
kingdom."  In  this  view  of  the  case,  therefore,  the  re- 
fusing to  wear  that  garment  indicates  "  the  want  of  a 
moral  character  and  walk  corresponding  to  God's  holy 

1  Goebel  on  the  Parables,  p.  374. 


THE  ROYAL  MARRIAGE-FEAST.  157 

will."  The  garment,  therefore,  is  a  character  consistent 
with  the  acceptance  —  simple,  sincere,  and  loyal — of  the 
gospel  of  Christ.  For  there  is  no  true  acceptance  of 
the  gospel  where  there  is  no  beginning  of  holiness,  and 
no  growth  in  likeness  to  God  himself;  according  as  Paul 
has  said,  "  Know  ye  not  that  the  unrighteous  shall  not 
inherit  the  kingdom  of  God  ?  Be  not  deceived :  neither 
fornicators,  nor  idolaters,  nor  adulterers,  nor  effeminate, 
nor  thieves,  nor  covetous,  nor  drunkards,  nor  revilers, 
nor  extortioners  shall  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God."  ^  It 
is  one  thing  to  profess  to  accept  the  gospel :  it  is  an- 
other thing  to  accept  it  in  reality.  It  is  one  thing  to  say 
that  you  are  a  Christian,  and  another  to  he  a  Christian 
indeed.  It  is  one  thing  to  be  called,  and  another  thing 
to  respond  to  that  call  whole-heartedly  and  in  its  entire- 
ty, so  as  to  make  manifest  that  we  are  "called,  choice, 
and  faithful." 

Such  is  the  simple  yet  solemn  explanation  of  this 
important  parable.  Its  one  great  lesson  is,  that  the 
enjoyment  of  privilege  does  not  insure  the  improve- 
ment of  privilege ;  and  its  one  terrible  warning  is,  that 
the  abuse  of  privilege  will  result  in  the  condemnation 
of  God's  wrath.  These  principles  are  applied,  first,  to 
the  case  of  the  Jews,  who  for  their  continued  resistance 
to  God's  invitations  were  rejected  at  last  by  God,  and 
given  over  to  destruction ;  and,  second,  to  the  Gentiles, 
who  are  thereby  informed  that  despite  the  gathering  of 
all  classes  into  the  kingdom  which  the  Jews  had  for- 
feited, every  one  who  has  not  a  character  in  harmony 
with  God's  will  be  cast  out  into  perdition.  And  the 
fact  that  only  a  single  guest  was  thus  discovered  and 
treated  gives  awful  emphasis  to  the  truths  that  we  have 
to  do  with  God  as  individuals,  and  not  as  classes  merely, 

1  1  Cor.  vi.  9,  10. 


158  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

and  that  not  even  one,  without  the  garment  of  holiness, 
will  be  able  to  conceal  himself  among  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  kingdom,  from  the  all-searching  eye  of  the 
eternal  King. 

But  now,  leaving  the  drapery  of  the  parable,  and  its 
original  application  to  the  Jews  and  Gentiles,  as  such, 
let  us  consider  very  briefly  the  four  different  ways  of 
treating  God's  invitations  in  the  gospel  which  are  here 
Bet  before  our  view. 

First,  we  have  it  complacently  ignored  by  those  who 
went  their  ways  to  their  farms  and  to  their  merchandise. 
Now,  on  a  superficial  examination,  one  is  apt  to  imagine 
that  those  who  act  in  this  fashion  are  less  guilty  than 
the  remnant  who  despitefully  entreated  the  servants  and 
slew  them,  and  that,  consequently,  they  are  not  in  such 
great  danger  as  these  others.  But  both  of  these  ideas 
are  mischievous  and  untrue.  Look  first  at  the  matter 
of  their  guilt,  and  I  am  sure  I  am  not  wrong  in  afBrm- 
ing  that  we  feel  it  a  greater  insult  to  be  slighted  than 
to  be  opposed.  He  who  ignores  me  altogether  does 
thereby  say  in  effect  that  I  am  not  worthy  of  his  notice  ; 
and  I  feel  that  to  be  a  greater  contempt  of  me  than  if 
he  sought  to  treat  me  with  violence.  But  man  is  made 
in  the  image  of  God ;  and  it  is  therefore  probable  that 
the  insult  to  his  grace  is  felt  by  him  to  be  greater  in 
the  case  of  those  who  simply  "make  light  of  it,"  than 
in  that  of  those  who  openly  and  defiantly  reject  it. 
Nay,  is  not  something  like  that  involved  in  the 
Saviour's  words  to  the  angel  of  the  church  at  Laodicea : 
"  I  would  thou  were  cold  or  hot ;  so  because  thou  art 
lukewarm,  and  neither  cold  nor  hot,  I  will  spew  thee 
out  of  my  mouth  "  ?  ^     He  prefers  an  open  enemy  to  one 

1  Rev.  iii.  15, 16. 


THE  ROYAL  MABRIAGE-FEAST.  159 

who  treats  liim  with  indifference.  Now,  carry  that 
principle  out,  and  you  come  to  the  conclusion  that  to 
treat  God's  overtures  in  the  gospel  as  not  worth  your 
notice  is  a  more  serious  offence,  in  his  eyes,  than  it  is 
to  attack  him  with  open  and  avowed  enmity.  Yet 
how  many  are  thus  despising  the  gospel  and  the  gos- 
pel's Lord !  Jesus  stands  knocking  at  the  door  of 
their  hearts,  sometimes  through  conscience,  and  some- 
times through  trial,  sometimes  through  the  spoken  words 
of  his  messengers,  and  sometimes  through  the  still  small 
voice  of  his  Spirit ;  but  they  heed  him  not.  They  go  on 
with  their  business,  their  pleasure,  their  sins,  just  as  if 
he  were  not  there.  They  use  him  in  such  a  way  as 
would  be  insulting  to  a  fellow-man,  and  then  solace 
themselves  with  the  opiate  that  they  have  not  rejected 
him,  and  so  their  guilt  cannot  be  great.  Friends,  it  is  a 
delusion  of  the  Devil  thus  to  think.  Awake,  I  beseech 
you,  to  the  real  nature  of  the  case,  and  beware  of  doing 
dishonor  thus  to  the  King  of  kings  ! 

But  it  is  equally  untrue  that  he  who  thus  slights  the 
message  of  God's  grace  is  in  smaller  danger  than  others. 
He  Avho  neglects  a  warning,  equally  with  him  who 
opposes  the  messenger  that  gives  the  warning,  leaves 
the  purport  of  it  unheeded,  and  becomes  a  victim  to 
his  folly.  If  I  were  in  a  boat  on  the  river  in  the 
rapids,  it  would  not  be  necessary,  to  insure  my  destruc- 
tion, that  I  should  enter  into  violent  controversy  with 
those  who  would  urge  me  from  the  shore,  to  take  heed 
and  come  to  land :  all  I  should  have  to  do  would  be  to 
shut  my  ears  to  their  entreaty,  and  leave  myself  alone  ; 
the  current  would  do  the  rest.  Neglect  of  the  gospel 
is  thus  just  as  perilous  as  the  open  rejection  of  it. 
Indeed,  half  the  evils  of  our  daily  life  in  temporal  things 
are  caused  by  neglect ;  and  countless  are  tlie  souls  who 


160  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR. 

are  lost  for  this  same  cause.  Leave  your  farm  for  a 
little,  then  ;  let  your  merchandise  alone  for  a  season ; 
settle  first,  and  before  all  things  else,  what  you  will  do 
with  this  invitation  which  God  has  given  you  to  the 
gospel  banquet:  then,  that  accepted,  your  farm  will 
become  to  you  a  section  of  God's  vineyard,  and  your 
business  will  be  a  means  of  glorifying  him. 

But,  in  the  second  place,  we  have  the  gospel-offer 
violently  rejected.  The  remnant  despitefully  entreated 
and  slew  the  servants  of  the  king.  That  is  no  longer 
common  among  us.  There  have  been  times  when  they 
who  sought  to  preach  the  gospel  did  so  at  the  risk  of 
their  lives ;  but  those  days,  thank  God,  are  gone,  never, 
as  we  hope,  to  return  again.  Yet  there  is  still  a  violent 
rejection  of  the  gospel,  common  among  certain  classes. 
There  are  some  who  are  open  infidels,  and  decry  every 
thing  that  is  associated  with  the  Church  of  Christ. 
They  will  not  listen  with  patience  to  its  ministers,  and 
they  take  every  opportunity  of  setting  themselves  up 
against  their  message.  Oh  that  they  would  hear  the 
voice  which  arrested  the  persecuting  Saul  on  the  way 
to  Damascus !  "  It  is  hard  for  thee  to  kick  against  the 
goads."  The  goads  are  uninjured,  but  what  of  your 
feet  the  while  ?  You  cannot  harm  the  gospel,  but  you 
can  harm  and  you  are  harming  your  own  souls.  It 
may  seem  easy  to  oppose  the  messenger;  but  it  is 
another  thing  to  set  yourselves  up  against  Him  by 
whom  he  is  commissioned,  and  that  is  what  you  do  in 
opposing  the  gospel  invitation.  Why  will  you  thus 
break  yourselves  by  rushing  against  the  thick  bosses 
of  the  Almighty's  buckler  ?  Bethink  yourselves  there- 
fore, while  ye  may;  accept  the  proffered  favor  now,  lest 
at  length  ye  be  overtaken  with  swift  destruction  as  the 


THE   liOVAL   MAUUIAGE-FEAST.  161 

voice  of  the  Almighty  cries,  "  Behold,  ye  dcspisers,  and 
wonder,  and  perish."  Ah,  what  words  are  these:  "He 
sent  forth  his  armies,  and  destroyed  those  murderers, 
and  burned  up  their  city  "  !  And  if  God  spared  not  the 
ancient  people  of  his  love  and  choice  when  they  re- 
jected his  own  Son,  take  heed  lest  he  also  spare  not 
thee. 

AVe  have  here,  thirdly,  the  inconsistency  and  insolence 
of  tlie  man  who  professed  to  accept  the  invitation,  and 
yet  failed  to  comply  with  the  conditions  on  which 
alone  true  acceptance  of  it  was  possible.  He  pushed 
into  the  festive  hall  without  having  on  a  wedding  gar- 
ment. So  there  arc  to-day  many  who  have  nominally 
accepted  Christ,  while  yet  it  is  evident,  from  the  absence 
of  the  holiness  which  he  requires,  that  they  are  really 
rejecting  him.  This  comes  nearer  home  to  many  of  us, 
perhaps,  than  either  of  the  other  cases  which  I  have 
specified.  For  the  Church  of  Christ  has  won  for  itself 
respectability,  and  importance  in  the  world ;  and  con- 
nection with  it  is,  in  itself,  a  sort  of  certificate  of  stand- 
ing and  re[)utation  in  the  community:  so  that  men  may 
be  tempted  to  join  themselves  with  it  for  the  temporal 
benefits  which  it  may  bring,  and  without  giving  any 
heed  to  the  requirements  which  the  Lord  Jesus  de- 
mands of  its  members.  They  may  profess  to  accept 
his  invitation,  and  even  take  their  places  at  his  table, 
without  having  the  character  which  is  a  constant  ac- 
companiment of  the  sincere  reception  of  his  grace.  As 
one ^  has  thoughtfully  said  here,  "conformity  to  God, 
ability  to  rejoice  with  God  and  in  God,  humble  and 
devoted  reverence,  a  real  willingness  to  do  honor  to  the 
King's  Son,  —  these  are  the  great   attainments.     But 

1  Dods  oil  the  Parables,  u.s  before,  p.  228. 


162  TnE  FABABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

these  constitute  the  wedding  garment,  without  which  we 
cannot  remain  in  his  presence,  or  abide  his  searching 
gaze.  It  will  come  to  be  a  matter  between  each  one 
of  you  singly  and  him ;  and  it  is  the  heart  you  bear 
towards  him,  that  will  determine  your  destiny.  No 
mere  appearance  of  accepting  his  invitation,  no  associ- 
ating of  yourself  with  those  who  love  him,  no  outward 
entrance  into  his  presence,  no  making  use  of  the  right 
language,  is  any  thing  to  the  purpose.  What  is  wanted 
is  a  profound  sympathy  with  God,  a  real  delight  in 
what  is  holy,  a  radical  acceptance  of  his  will.  In  other 
words,  and  as  the  most  untutored  conscience  might  see, 
what  is  wanted  is  a  state  of  mind  in  you  which  God 
can  delight  in,  and  approve  of,  and  hold  fellowship 
with." 

Now,  the  acceptance  of  the  gospel  invitation  in  that 
state  of  mind ;  the  acceptance  of  it  really,  sincerely, 
whole-heartedly,  —  is  the  fourth  way  of  dealing  with  it 
that  is  set  before  us  in  the  parable ;  and  that  state  of 
mind  he  will  give  to  us,  even  as  the  king  here  provided 
the  wedding  garments.  The  invitation  is  to  all,  with- 
out limitation  or  restriction,  bad  or  good,  old  or  young, 
of  whatever  color  or  nation.  All  are  called  ;  but  they 
only  truly  accept,  who,  in  so  doing,  yield  themselves  up 
to  God,  to  be  as  he  wills,  to  do  as  he  commands,  to  live 
as  he  ordains.  For  this  feast  is  not  a  thing  for  an  hour 
or  two,  but  for  a  lifetime,  nay,  for  an  eternity ;  and  we 
could  not  endure  to  be  with  God,  if  we  were  not  also 
growing  in  likeness  to  God.  Thus,  from  another  side 
of  the  subject,  the  truth  impressed  upon  us  b}^  the  epi- 
sode of  the  wedding  garment  is  the  same  as  Jesus 
unfolded,  to  Nicodemus  :  "  Except  a  man  be  born  again, 
he    cannot   see    the    kin<:;dom    of    God."      You    cannot 


THE  EOYAL  MARRIAGE-FEAST.  163 

have  the  forgiveness  without  the  purity,  the  happiness 
without  the  holiness,  the  feast  without  the  garment; 
but  when  you  are  ready  to  submit  yourselves  to  the 
great  law  of  the  kingdom,  which  links  privilege  and 
character  indissolubly  together,  then  you  may  have 
both. 


ISi  WEM  mAMlMIMS  ^  OTH  SATlOrJ^ 


J3L 

Tim  TEN  ywGBgs. 

Xht.  pnmBarr  nsfefflBoe  of  Ifloos  faaraMe  as  !•  Ififae 
BeiiKmd  coming  of  Ofarastjameflit^w^Be^fei^BeittecaDiBnoe 
lihe  lesson  of  <BiinHfcanitt  wjiteMJaflBBac  £ar  tflodt  cjmuiuL  b^ 
the  dificonrse  ^v^miih  pBeeedeB  i^bms  dhapiiBr,  «rar  Ifflnd, 
irlulf  spealTTng  hij:^  iiiii|fiEBiB!fiBfi%^  «if  l^xt  vaPiaaxA^  4af 
Ilk  ofmniig,  anft  (ibdfaaang  that  tlffi  Home  of  it  ir&$  knoim 
iidIt  1C0  lifaf  ^^si^KBCflad.  ?nRpB«fcfMily  iwnijftmiajgid  ijhe  siaiie- 

Ins  OTOi  people  ou^^  Hd  1^  ahrajVE  in  aTBaffiaaesB  to  meelt 

^tended,  and  thast  jsHbd  m  liflffi  fD«iiait  4m  wMa&  lie  oHEaKS 
of  lihe  paoaAiite  tom;  &ir  itilie  wmwft]|iBCto&iraB  •cif  t&e 
agpgpeaa3iD.De  'if  tiSie  BmufegaiOiim.  ws^wEiBlkA  ait  (fmee  itifae  <ffi£- 

T!he  fiioTx  lEBei^  i^efl  mfXt  xfedaia  ob  Ifaai^  ^Bt  idr  oe  S9 
pesfer!!  in  ilB  ,wni|iIiBiAji^  ^aHL  mwllflmig  k  aiBq[innBd  tto  and. 
HE  iu  J£B  'Cfmi|iiiffliBnHLaB,  Ain^  ariiiHiii||<t  to  tfdlL  it  Jan. 
cnibsir  fPmds  'windbi  lami^  juBihBme  a  ^iPGaBk  ^Bhllium  cf  itftn 
ongpmd.  juacxatlitpe;,  aodL  aM  ttfllinntii  ait  jKiiiiliii^  «raEt  ite 
ilKsanillaeB  woilld  9k  Iffie  liwfl^n^  lap  a  HiaQier  ie  (ffii|Ai^ 
liihf*  ^lorr  of  "Lbfi  scmu  £t  k  sa  ssssffiGfue  in  9d^  iwiliiiiihi  aB 
tto  '^op^  an  aBonraile  <Aesf9i^)^mBi  cf  an  Ijuileiii  MMMgiwigfr- 
pBDceBBHiiiq  and  it  mu^  wdD  fioini^i  Iorrb  bsem  SiuaaAA 
fin  fifmK  acKBDEsQ.  iuEObEorar.    finit  v^Hit  csm  i^^pud  nAie  ^ccnq»- 


THE  TKSr  nSGLTS,  VS9 


theandm^  ctj;  Ae  hoiieeClie  msfoagd  ri^efes; 
and  Ae  ff^tfrw^f*  (^  Ike  ifimnHiimtii  <1  flae%  am  ^ej  err 
witk  piocii^  canertBCK,  «'LoKii»LaBi.«fCB  to  w^? 
Etch  as  a  wvik  of  art,  tftii  panUe  is  fmllw  as  its 
anthor;  and  tiu>«^  Aat  w\Be  bo  miirfJiHay 
AroMiiig  heaexA  it,  ve  covid  mt  faofc  be 
with  its  smpie  Batan^BeaB^  its  lafid  novemeBllir  lis  ti»> 
a£  padboSy  ami!  lis  gjl^nt  dliMe  as  Ae  anidBi^bk  gTiw— 
fii^ffe  in  mptm  and  hides  Ae  '"**"^— »  of  tih»ew&o  aee 
^Hfc  ovi.  W^em,  himetgiL,  we  go  deeper  into  ft;,  and 
diacofet  its  afiiiilmtil  wgiriiirwiee,  we  ftid.  evxs^ics 
cooeeraed;  asd  we  bare  no  tiaw  fior  jdiiiwing  tiie 
beaeties  of  i^  parable,  beeanse  c^  tie  jjnofeuig  and  per- 
sooal  isqwrtanee  <^  Ae  traii&i^  wM^  it  saggeslii&-  S: 
riuU  be  mj  aiiw  atmr  to  sec  Ifieae  bei»e  toq  as  bod^ 
and  pnatedly  as  poa^Me.  I  dhaOi  sot  attifiii|»i»  to  ^«e 
a  faMJwg  to  ererr  Maaato  detail  of  tite  s&ktv  bat  cob- 
tent  nys^  widi  settag:  beSve  jeoB,  bb  a  few  pertiDeBjk 
lena^s,  wbat  I  jo^e  tobe  tbe  ^&  and  naEicnr  of  ifis 

I.  Lr  rTe.tbeB,iB  delist  piaee,t&ai we Inve 

liere  nr<.  :-^  j.  .iezs  ccwtijsted-  QC  tbe  H^  T^jras,  fiie 
were  wise,  and  five  were  feefie^  Sow,  ^at  we  ■07' 
define  Ae  diffiiieace  between  tbam,  it  is  aeedfol  idhafk 
we  bare  first  a  dear  cone^tam  of  tbe  tbngs 
Aej  were  afike.  Soto,  An,  tibat  l&ej  aH  bad 
kaowled^  4^  and  regard  lor,  Ae  bridegfoeas,  aad  de- 
■oed  to  bonor  bin  hj  going  fixl^  to  neeft  bos  as  be  led 
koaae  bis  bode.  Soto,  Ibxtiker,  tbat  ibej  al  bad  lanps 
wbiek  at  tbe  I'li—  at  were  baxasag.  Sote.  once  move, 
tbat  wbiie  tbe  bndegroooi  tarried  tibev  aE  slwBbaed 
and  diept.    Sot  vntil  bis  eoniBg:  was 


1G6  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR. 

the  difference  between  them  develop  itself.  But  then 
it  was  seen,  that  some  of  them  had  prudently  provided 
for  certain  contingencies  by  taking  with  them  a  reserve 
supply  of  oil,  while  others  had  contented  themselves 
with  simply  filling  their  lamps.  Now,  it  is  indispensable 
to  a  right  understanding  of  the  parable,  that  we  settle 
plainly  what  is  meant  in  the  one  case  by  the  presence, 
and  in  the  other  by  the  absence,  of  this  store  of  oil. 
Clearly,  in  all  outward  things  the  wise  and  the  foolish 
virgins  were  alike.  The  difference  between  them  was 
internal.  But  what,  precisely,  was  it  ?  The  going  out 
with  a  lamp  is  commonly  understood  to  mean  the  mak- 
ing of  a  profession,  while  the  absence  of  the  reserve  store 
of  oil  is  supposed  to  signify  the  want  of  sincerity  in  that 
profession.  The  foolish  virgins  are  thus  held  to  repre- 
sent hypocritical  adherents  of  Christ,  while  the  wise  are 
taken  to  signify  genuine  disciples. 

But  this  restriction  of  the  oil  in  reserve,  to  sincerity, 
seems  to  me  to  narrow  unduly  the  scope  of  the  parable. 
For  the  foolish  virgins  had  a  real  regard,  such  as  it  was, 
for  the  bridegroom :  they  had  actually  gone  out  so  far 
to  meet  him,  and  they  were  dreadfully  disappointed  by 
their  exclusion  from  the  feast.  They  did  not  feign  any 
of  these  things.  There  was  a  genuineness  about  them, 
so  far  as  they  went ;  only  they  did  not  go  far  enough. 
Hence  I  cannot  restrict  the  reference  of  this  part  of  the 
story  to  deliberate  hypocrites.  Indeed,  I  believe  that 
the  number  of  those  who  make  a  Christian  profession 
by  connecting  themselves  with  the  visible  church,  while 
yet  they  consciously  design  to  impose  upon  its  office- 
bearers, is  comparatively  small ;  and  therefore,  if  we 
confine  the  warning'  conveyed  in  the  fate  of  the  foolish 
virgins  to  them,  I  greatly  fear  that  many  whom  it  was 
designed  to  arouse  may  fail  to  perceive  its  reference  to 


THE   TEN    VIRGINS.  1G7 

them,  and  may  sleep  on  in  security  despite  its  call  to 
watchfulness.  I  am  disposed,  therefore,  to  regard  the 
foolish  virgins  as  symbolizing  those  who  have  had  some 
feelings  of  attachment  to  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  certain 
impulses  Christ-ward  to  which  they  yielded  at  the  time ; 
but  they  were  not  constant.  Their  emotion  was  a  real 
thing,  and  when  they  were  acting  upon  it  you  could 
not  call  them  hypocrites ;  but  it  was  not  the  right  thing. 
They  were  animated  by  impulse  alone,  not  by  principle 
or  conviction.  Their  religion  did  not  go  down  into  the 
lowest  depths  of  their  nature,  but  was  rather  a  thing 
of  surface.  It  went  down  a  little  way,  but  it  did  not 
go  the  whole  way  ;  and  therefore,  when  it  was  put  to 
tlie  proof,  it  failed.  Thus  I  should  identify  the  foolish 
virgins  with  those  who  in  the  parable  of  the  sower  are 
represented  l)y  the  seed  "  which  fell  upon  rocky  ground 
where  it  had  not  much  earth,  and  forthwith  it  sprung 
up  because  it  had  no  deepness  of  earth ;  and  when  the 
sun  was  up  it  was  scorched,  and  because  it  had  no  root 
it  withered  away  ;"  and  of  whom  our  Lord  himself  thus 
gives  the  description,  "  He  that  received  the  seed  into 
rocky  places,  the  same  is  he  that  heareth  the  word,  and 
anon  with  joy  reccivetli  it ;  yet  hath  he  not  root  in  him- 
self, but  dureth  for  a  while;  for  when  tribulation  or 
persecution  ariseth  because  of  the  word,  by  and  by  he 
is  offended."  ^  Here,  you  observe,  there  was  a  real 
reception  of  the  seed,  and  a  real  growth  so  far ;  and  so, 
when  a  profession  was  made,  you  could  not  call  it  hypo- 
critical. But  it  was  not  abiding.  It  wanted  dei)th. 
It  had  no  root ;  or,  in  the  imagery  of  the  parable  before 
me,  there  was  no  reserve  of  oil  from  which  to  replen- 
ish the  lamp. 

So,   again,  you  have   the   same   phase    of  character 

»  ilatt.  xiii.  5,  G,  20,  21. 


168  TUE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

hinted  at  in  the  Lord's  words  as  recorded  by  Luke  :^ 
"•  For  which  of  yon,  intending  to  build  a  tower,  sitteth 
not  down  first,  and  connteth  tlie  cost,  whether  he  have 
not  sufficient  to  finisli  it  ?  lest  haply,  after  he  have  laid 
the  foundation,  and  is  not  able  to  finish  it,  all  that  be- 
hold it  begin  to  mock  him,  saying,  This  man  began  to 
build,  and  was  not  able  to  finish.  Or  what  king,  going 
to  make  war  against  another  king,  sitteth  not  down  first, 
and  consulteth  whether  he  be  able  with  ten  thousand 
to  meet  him  that  cometh  against  him  with  twenty  thou- 
sand?" Now,  that  was  precisely  the  case  of  these  fool- 
ish virgins.  They  had  not  thought  of  the  possibility 
of  the  bridegroom's  delay.  They  had  not  sufficiently 
counted  the  cost ;  and  so  they  had  nothing  in  reserve 
on  which  they  could  fall  back,  and  by  which  they  could 
be  sustained  through  a  time  of  emergency. 

But  if  that  be  so,  you  are  ready  to  ask  how  it  comes 
that^this  particular  difference  is  set  forth  here  by  the 
having,  or  the  not  having,  of  oil  in  reserve.  Now,  the 
answer  to  that  must  be,  that  the  shape  of  the  analogy  is 
determined  by  the  character  of  the  story,  so  that  what 
in  the  parable  of  the  sower  is  indicated  by  the  having 
of  no  root,  is  here  portrayed  by  the  having  of  no  oil. 
Yet  it  is  interesting  to  note,  that  throughout  the  Scrip- 
tures oil  is  used  to  represent  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  that 
in  their  union  to  the  Holy  Spirit,  formed  by  their  faith 
in  Christ,  and  maintained  by  their  constant  study  of 
his  word,  their  habitual  dependence  on  him  in  prayer, 
and  their  continuous  obedience  to  his  commands,  believ- 
ers are  represented  as  having  that  unfailing  supply  of 
strength  by  which  they  are  sustained  in  every  duty  and 
prepared  for  every  emergency.  As  in  Zechariah's 
vision  2  the  two  olive-trees  stood,  one  on  each  side  of 

1  Luke  xiv.  28-32.  2  Zech.  iv.  2-4,  11, 12. 


THE  TEN  rinciNS.  109 

the  golden  lamp,  emptying  into  its  bowls  the  oil  ont  of 
themselves,  and  thus  sustaining  its  never-failing  light ; 
so  the  Holy  Spirit  in  tlie  believer's  heart  gives  him  grace 
sufficient  for  him  in  every  hour  of  need. 

The  separate  vessel  in  wJiich  this  oil  was  carried  by 
the  wise  virgins  must  not  so  far  mislead  us  as  to  induce 
us  to  believe  that  this  oil  is  something  outside  of  the 
believer.  It  is  rather  the  reserve  force  of  character  in 
the  Christian  himself,  which  has  been  accumulated  by 
him  through  his  constant  faith  in  Christ  and  obedience 
to  him,  whereby  he  has  maintained  unbroken  his  union 
to  the  Holy  Ghost.  His  religion  has  a  root  in  princii)le 
and  conviction,  which  draws  its  sustenance  from  the 
Lord  himself.  It  has  been  clearly  understood,  intelli- 
gently received,  and  deliberately  maintained.  It  may 
have  had  little  of  the  effervescence  of  emotional  excite- 
ment about  it  at  the  first,  but  there  was  a  deep  deter- 
mination in  liis  soul.  He  has  forecast  the  future,  and, 
knowing  liis  own  weakness,  he  has  sought  ever  to  hohl 
fast  by  the  strcngtli  of  the  Omnipotent,  so  that  he  has 
been  able  to  stand  the  strain  of  every  storm.  You  see, 
then,  wherein  the  difference  between  these  two  charac- 
ters lies.  It  is  not  in  sincerity  so  much  as  in  constancy  ; 
not  in  leaf  so  much  as  in  root;  not  in  emotion  so  much 
as  in  principle ;  not  in  surface  so  much  as  in  depth ; 
not  in  the  manifestation  of  character  at  the  moment,  so 
much  as  in  the  reserve  force  of  character  that  can  meet 
any  contingency. 

II.  Now,  this  analysis  of  the  difference  between  the 
two  classes  of  characters  here  symbolized  i)re})ares  the 
way  for  the  second  remark  wliith  is  suggested  by  the  par- 
able ;  namely,  that  chai-acter  is  revealed  by  crisis.  "At 
midnight  there  was  a  cr}'  made,  Behold,  the  bridegroom 


170  THE  PAIiABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

cometli :  go  ye  out  to  meet  him  ; "  and  this  startled  the 
virgins  from  their  slumber.  No  blame  is  here  attached 
to  them  for  having  fallen  asleep.  Both  classes,  wise 
and  foolish  alike,  were  folded  in  unconsciousness  ;  but 
\  this  apparently  was  necessary,  in  order  that  both  alike 
should  be  taken  unawares.  Again,  it  is,  for  the  pur- 
poses of  exposition,  immaterial  whether  the  coming  of 
the  bridegroom  be  interpreted  to  mean  his  appearance 
at  the  end  of  all  things,  or,  as  some  have  preferred  to 
understand  it,  his  coming  to  begin  a  personal  reign 
upon  the  earth :  the  principle  involved  is,  that  he  will 
come  unexpectedly,  and  that  the  suddenness  of  his 
appearance  will  be  a  test  of  character.  These  virgins 
were  all  taken  by  surprise ;  and  that  revealed  at  once 
which  of  them  were  prepared,  and  which  of  them  were 
not  prepared,  to  meet  the  bridegroom. 

The  great  truth  here  taught,  therefore,  is  that  char- 
acter is  revealed  by  emergency.  It  is  in  moments  of 
surprise  that  a  man's  true  self  comes  out  to  view.  He 
is  the  ablest  general  who  can  in  an  instant  find  some 
resource  when  an  ambushed  foe  starts  up  before  him. 
He  is  the  most  skilful  mariner,  who,  in  sudden  ex- 
tremity, can  rise  to  the  occasion,  and  bring  his  vessel 
and  his  crew  safely  into  port.  Nothing  will  more  cor-, 
rectly  reveal  what  is  in  a  man,  than  the  coming  upon 
him  of  some  crushing  and  unlooked-for  crisis.  Let  it 
be  temporal  ruin  by  the  failure  of  all  his  calculations, 
or  the  disappointment  of  all  his  hopes ;  let  it  be  tlie 
entrance  of  the  death-angel  into  his  home,  and  tlie 
removal  from  it  of  his  nearest  and  dearest  earthly 
friend ;  let  it  be  his  own  prostration  by  some  serious 
illness  which  puts  him  face  to  face  with  his  dissolution : 
and  forthwith  the  extent  of  his  resources  is  unfolded, 
and  it  is  at  once  discovered  both  by  others  and  by  him- 


THE   TEN   VIItGINS.  171 

self,  whether  lie  is  animated  by  unfailing  faith  in  the 
Lord  Jesus  Clu-ist,  and  sustained  by  the  grace  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  or  whether  he  has  been  deceiving  himself, 
and  all  the  while  relying  on  some  other  support.  It 
was  a  shrewd  remark  of  Andrew  Fuller,  that  a  man  has 
only  as  much  religion  as  he  can  command  in  trial\  Let 
us  therefore  look  back  upon  the  past,  and  analyze  our 
experience  at  such  testing  times  as  those  to  which  I 
have  referred.  We  have  all  had  them.  We  have  all 
heard  already,  in  some  form  or  other,  this  midnight  cry, 
"  Behold,  the  Bridegroom  cometh;"  for,  in  every  such 
surprise  as  those  which  I  have  described,  Jesus  was 
coming  to  us.  How  did  Ave  meet  him  then  ?  Did  our 
lamps  go  out?  or  were  we  able  to  trim  them,  and  keep 
them  burning  brightly  all  through?  Oh,  if  by  any 
such  event  we  discovered  our  utter  resourcelessness,  let 
us  betake  ourselves  now  to  Christ,  that  he  may  thor- 
oughly renew  us  by  his  Holy  Spirit,  and  so  prepare  us 
for  that  last  and  solemnest  crisis  when  over  the  graves 
of  the  slumbering  dead  the  archangel  shall  cry  out, 
"  Behold,  the  Bridegroom  cometh,"  and  all  shall  arise 
to  stand  before  his  great  white  throne.  In  mercy  these 
minor  surprises  have  been  sent  to  show  ourselves  to  us 
before  the  last  and  greatest  one.  Let  us  see  to  it, 
therefore,  that  we  learn  true  wisdom  from  them,  and 
so  forecast  the  future  as  to  prepare  for  it  by  maintain- 
ing unbruken  fellowship  with  the  Holy  Spirit. 

III.  But  now,  in  the  third  place,  let  us  observe,  as 
suggested  by  this  paraljle,  tliat  (character  is  a  personal 
thing,  and  cannot  be  given  by  one  man  to  another,  but 
must  be  acquired  and  manifested  by  each  one  for  him- 
self. In  the  moment  of  urgency,  the  foolish  said  unto 
the  wise,  "  Give  us  of  your  oil,  for  our  lamps  arc  going 


172  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

out."  But  the  wise  answered,  "  Not  so,  lest  there  be 
not  enough  for  us  and  you ;  but  go  ye  rather  to  them 
that  sell,  and  buy  for  yourselves."  In  the  house  of  a 
well-known  citizen  of  Boston,  there  is  an  exquisite 
group  in  marble,  representing  the  wise  and  foolish 
virgins.  The  wise  is  kneeling,  in  the  act  of  trimming 
her  lamp ;  and  the  foolish,  with  a  face  full  of  the  most 
pathetic  entreaty,  seems  begging  from  her  a  share  of 
the  oil  which  she  is  pouring  in  to  feed  the  flame  ;  but 
her  sister,  with  a  look  of  inexpressible  sadness,  and  her 
hand  uplifted  as  if  to  guard  her  treasure,  is  as  if  she 
were  sayhig,  "iVbi  so."  It  is  a  touching  rendering  of 
the  parable ;  and,  as  I  looked  at  it,  I  was  not  surprised 
to  be  told  that  a  famous  New-England  essayist  had  said, 
as  he  was  gazing  at  it,  "  She  should  have  given  her  the 
oil.''''  Who  has  not  often  sympathized  with  that  feeling 
as  he  read  the  parable  ?  We  are  apt  to  think  that  tlie 
five  sisters  were  just  a  little  stingy,  and  that  what  seems 
to  be  their  selfishness  was  not  at  all  in  keeping  with  the 
benevolence  which  the  gospel  enjoins.  But,  not  to 
insist  upon  the  fact  that  it  is  impossible  to  construct  an 
allegory  which  will  hold  in  every  particular,  the  answer 
made  by  the  owner  of  the  group  to  the  man  of  genius 
is  conclusive.  "  If,"  said  he,  "  you  and  your  neighbor 
have  each  signed  a  bill  for  a  certain  sum  to  fall  due  on 
a  certain  date,  and  you  by  dint  of  economy  and  perse- 
verance have  been  able  to  lay  by  just  enough  to  meet 
your  own  obligation,  while  your  neighbor,  wasting  his 
hours  on  trifles,  has  made  no  provision  for  the  day  of 
settlement;  and  if,  on  tlie  morning  on  which  the  bills 
fall  due,  he  should  come,  beseeching  you  to  give  him 
some  of  your  money  to  help  him  to  pay  his  debt,  —  would 
you  give  it  him  ?  "  That  is  a  j^ecuniary  illustration ; 
and  there  is  no  evading  tlie  force  of  the  argument,  even 


THE   TEN   VIRGINS.  173 

when  it  is  so  put.  But  the  parable  treats  of  character; 
and  that  may  be  always  labelled  " not  transferable"  for 
its  qualities  cannot  be  given  by  one  man  to  another, 
even  if  he  were  ever  so  willing  to  part  with  them.  You 
cannot  give  me  your  patience  to  support  me  in  the  hour 
of  my  anguish.  I  cannot  give  you  my  courage  to  fortify 
you  for  the  discharge  of  dangerous  duty.  There  is 
much,  indeed,  that  we  can  and  ought  to  do  for  each 
other.  We  may  pray  for  each  other.  We  may  direct 
the  anxious  one  to  Christ.  We  may  sympathize  with 
the  sufferer  in  his  time  of  trial.  We  may,  through  long 
years  of  intimate  companionship,  even  do  much  to  help 
to  form  the  character  of  a  friend.  But  we  cannot  give 
to  another  the  qualities  which  we  ourselves  jjossess,  but 
in  which  he  is  deficient ;  for  these  are  not  like  oil  or 
wine  or  money,  which  can  be  passed  from  hand  to  hand. 
They  are  a  man's  own  untransferable  possession,  and 
that  is  the  truth  which  is  emphasized  by  the  act  of  the 
wise  virgins  in  refusing  to  share  their  oil  with  their  fool- 
ish sisters.  This  is  a  matter  far  too  little  thought  of  by 
us  all.  We  give  so  much  to  each  other,  and  receive  so 
much  from  each  other,  in  common  life,  that  we  are  apt 
to  suppose  that  in  moral  things,  as  well  as  in  secular, 
there  may  also  be  this  mutual  reciprocity.  But  it  is 
not  so.  The  severest  passages  in  a  man's  life  isolate 
him  from  his  fellows,  and  he  has  to  go  through  them  by 
himself.  Abraham  received  no  strength  from  man  when 
he  went  calmly  up  Moriah  to  offer  Isaac  in  sacrifice. 
Jacob  was  "left  alone"  on  that  memorable  night  when 
there  wrestled  with  him  the  mysterious  angel  till  the 
breaking  of  the  day  ;  and  times  of  peril  and  suffering, 
such  as  temporal  calamity  or  personal  affliction  bring, 
must  be  met  by  each  alone  in  the  strength  of  that  char- 
acter which  he  has  chosen  to  make  and  mould  for  him- 


174  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

self  in  the  past.  When  we  come  to  die,  we  must  meet 
the  last  enemy,  not  with  the  faith  and  courage  of  the 
friends  who  stand  around  our  bed,  but  each  for  himself 
alone  in  his  own  character. 

Now,  if  that  be  so,  how  perilous  it  is  to  leave  off 
preparation  for  these  testing  times  until  they  have  come 
upon  us !  If  we  would  meet  them  satisfactorily,  we 
must  fit  ourselves  for  them  in  common  things,  and 
when  no  such  emergency  is  upon  us.  Here,  therefore, 
comes  in  with  peculiar  force  the  closing  moral  of  the 
story :  "  Watch  ye,  therefore,  for  in  such  an  hour  as  ye 
think  not  the  Son  of  man  cometh."  He  who  is  faithful 
in  that  which  is  least  is  faithful  in  that  which  is  great- 
est ;  and  he  who  has  formed  his  character  by  faith  in 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  obedience  to  him  in  the  ordi- 
nary matters  of  daily  life,  is  he  also  who  can  meet  the 
solemnest  experiences  without  a  quiver,  and  is  prepared 
for  any  sudden  surprise.  We  all  know  how  true  that 
is  in  common  life.  When,  in  times  of  danger,  some 
great  leader  comes  suddenly  to  the  front,  and  shows 
that  he  has  the  very  qualities  which  the  occasion  needs, 
it  will  always  be  found  that  he  has  been  preparing  him- 
self, —  unconsciously,  perhaps,  but  really,  —  for  years, 
by  the  careful  discipline  of  daily  labor,  for  the  work 
wliich  is  now  so  successfully  performed  by  him.  While 
others  were  asleep,  he  was  at  his  toil ;  and  by  the  study 
of  many  earnest  months,  perhaps  also  by  the  labor  of 
many  midnight  hours,  he  has  been  laying  up  that 
reserve  supply,  on  which  at  the  moment  of  necessity 
he  has  been  able  to  draw.  Thus,  though  the  revelation 
of  his  ability  may  have  been  sudden,  the  growth  of  it 
has  been  gradual ;  and  because  in  times  of  quiet  and 
safety  he  ke})t  up  the  discipline  of  work,  the  crisis  which 
swept  others  into  oblivion  only  floated  him  into  fame. 


TUE   TEN   VIHGINS.  175 

Now,  the  same  thing  holds  in  the  spiritual  department. 
If  in  our  daily  life  we  seek  to  form  and  maintain,  by 
the  help  of  the  Holy  Spirit  and  through  faith  in  Christ, 
a  holy  character,  then,  when  the  testing  hour  comes,  we 
shall  be  able  to  stand.  But  if  we  have  been  satisfying 
ourselves  with  a  merely  nominal  Christianity,  and  have 
not  endeavored  to  carry  out  in  every  respect  the  princi- 
ples of  the  gospel,  then  the  crisis  of  sudden  temptation 
or  unexpected  trial  will  only  reveal  our  weakness,  and 
we  shall  be  proved  to  be  none  of  Christ's.  The  daily 
work  of  the  blacksmith  not  only  leaves,  as  its  result, 
the  articles  which  that  day  he  has  made,  but  adds  also 
a  certain  deposit  to  the  strength  of  his  arm  and  the 
skill  in  his  craft,  which  he  has  in  store  for  the  under- 
taking of  something  else.  So,  every  time  we  perform  a 
duty  out  of  regard  to  Christ,  the  soul  is  made  thereby 
so  much  the  stronger  for  something  else ;  and  every 
time  we  overcome  a  temptation  through  faith  in  Christ, 
the  soul  is  made  so  much  the  mightier  for  the  resistance 
of  the  next  assault.  The  daily  life  of  the  man  who 
meets  every  .duty  as  something  to  be  done  for  Jesus, 
and  bears  every  trial  as  something  to  be  borne  for 
Jesus,  has  its  result  not  only  in  the  doing  of  these 
duties,  and  the  bearing  of  these  trials,  but  also  in  the 
deposit  of  reserve  force  which  is  left  thereby  in  his 
character  for  future  emergencies. 

Here,  as  it  seems  to  me,  therefore,  is  the  full  mean- 
ing of  that  store  of  oil  which  the  wise  virgins  carried 
with  them ;  and  if  that  be  so,  it  gives,  as  we  have 
said,  new  point  to  the  injunction  with  which  the  para- 
ble concludes :  "  Watch  ye,  therefore,  for  ye  know 
neither  the  day  nor  the  hour  wherein  the  Son  of 
man  cometh."  For,  in  a  very  important  sense,  the 
Sou  of  man  is  coming  to  us  every  hour  of  every  day. 


176  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

Each  new  hour  brings  new  duties  and  responsibili- 
ties from  him  to  us.  The  last  one  we  had  laid  some 
new  obligation  on  us.  It  brought  some  work  to  be 
done,  or  some  evil  to  be  resisted,  or  some  privilege 
to  be  improved.  Have  we  risen  to  the  occasion?  If 
we  have,  then  we  have  brought  out  of  it  some  reserve 
force  of  character,  on  which  afterwards  we  may  draw ; 
but  if  we  have  not,  then  we  have  come  out  of  it  weaker 
than  we  were  before  we  entered  it.  Thus,  whether  we 
will  confess  it  to  ourselves  or  not,  there  is  a  constant 
process  going  on  within  us,  either  of  invigoration  or  of 
deterioration  ;  and,  if  we  meet  Christ  continually  as  he 
comes  to  us  in  the  common  duties  of  a  common  day, 
we  shall  not  be  dismayed  at  last  when  he  comes  in  state 
with  the  flaming  outriders  of  his  majesty.  He  is  the 
same  Christ,  and  our  acquaintance  with  himself  will 
keep  us  from  being  terrified  by  the  accessories  that  are 
round  about  him. 

The  upshot  of  the  matter,  then,  is,  that  each  one  of 
us  is  making  for  himself  the  character  in  which  he  is 
to  meet  all  future  emergencies  ;  and,  according  as  we 
make  that,  we  shall  be  found  at  last  with  no  oil  where- 
with to  trim  our  lamps,  or  with  a  reserve  supply,  from 
which  we  may  replenish  them,  and  keep  alive  their 
light.  For  we  cannot  give  to  or  receive  from  each  ot^er 
here.  Plow  important,  therefore,  it  is,  that  we  should 
make  that  character  after  the  pattern  and  on  the  princi- 
ples of  Christ !  Here  is  the  plan  ;  "  Add  to  your  faith 
virtue ;  and  to  virtue,  knowledge ;  and  to  knowledge, 
temperance ;  and  to  temperance,  patience  ;  and  to  pa- 
tience, godliness ;  and  to  godliness,  brotherly  kindness  ; 
and  to  brotherly  kindness,  charity."  ^  Thus  the  faith  is 
the  first,  and  the  love  is  the  cope-stone ;   but  the  faith 

1  2  Pet.  i.  5-7. 


THE   TEN   VIRGINS.  177 

itself  must  rest  on  Christ.  Let  us  begin  with  tlmt,  and 
go  on  after  this  phm,  seeking  every  day  to  serve  the 
Lord  ;  and  so,  siiigidarly  enough,  tlie  longer  our  lamps 
shall  burn,  the  larger  also  will  our  reserve  of  oil  become, 
and  in  the  end  "an  entrance  shall  be  ministered  to  us 
abundantly  into  the  everlasting  kingdom  of  our  Lord 
and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ." 

IV.  But,  as  another  truth  suggested  by-  this  parable, 
I  remark  finally  that  lost  op[)ortunities  cannot  be  re- 
called. When  the  door  was  shut,  the  foolish  virgins 
could  find  no  entrance  into  the  feast,  though  they 
sought  it  with  the  most  agonizing  earnestness.  Now,  we 
shall  greatly  miss  the  practical  value  of  this  thought  if 
we  restrict  it  only  to  the  opportunities  to  which  death 
puts  a  period.  No  doubt  that  is  the  most  solemn  appli- 
cation of  the  analogy  involved  in  the  words,  "  and  the 
door  was  shut."  But  every  day  is  bringing  opportuni- 
ties, which,  if  we  neglect  them,  can  never  return  again. 
Others  may  come,  but  these  will  come  never  more. 
Thus,  to  illustrate  from  God's  offers  of  grace,  I  pro- 
claim to  3-0U  now  the  gospel  of  forgiveness  and  regener- 
ation on  the  condition  of  your  repenting,  and  returning 
to  the  Lord.  You  may  refuse  it  to-night;  and  it  is  pos- 
si])le  that  five  years  hence  God  may  again  bring  you 
and  me  face  to  face,  and  I  may  re})eat  the  offer  which 
I  have  just  made.  It  will  look  the  same ;  but  it  is  not 
the  same  as  I  am  making  now,  for,  though  it  will  make 
the  same  demand  on  you,  it  will  have  in  it  five  years 
less  of  happiness  and  usefulness  than  that  which  I 
make  here  to-night.  You  may  go  away  rejecting  it 
again ;  and  ten  years  hence,  it  is  not  probable,  but  it  is 
l)0ssible,  God  may  again  bring  us  together,  and  I  may 
then  again  press  on  your  acceptance  God's  overtures  iu 


178  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

the  same  words.  It  will  look  the  same  offer,  and  it 
will  make  the  same  demand ;  but  it  will  not  be  the  same 
offer,  for  it  will  contain  in  it  ten  years  less  of  happi- 
ness and  usefulness  than  that  which  I  press  upon  you 
now.  You  know  the  story  of  the  ancient  sibyl  who 
came  to  King  Tarquin  offering  for  sale  nine  books 
which  she  declared  would  be  of  great  value  to  him  in 
the  government  of  Rome.  She  asked  what  seemed  an 
exorbitant  price,  and  he  would  not  buy  them.  On  that 
she  retired,  and  burned  three  of  the  books :  then  she 
came  back,  and  asked  the  same, sum  for  the  remaining 
six.  He  again  refused ;  and  she  retired,  and  burned 
three  more,  only  to  come  back,  and  ask  the  same  price 
for  the  remaining  three.  Then,  by  the  advice  of  his 
councillors,  he  secured  them  on  her  own  terms.  Now, 
beneath  that  old  fable  there  is  an  important  truth ;  for, 
the  longer  we  refuse  Gud's  overtures,  the  less  these 
overtures  contain,  while  the  demand  upon  us  is  still  the 
same  for  the  remainder.  How  many  more  of  these 
books  of  privilege  are  you  going  to  suffer  to  be  de- 
stroyed? And  what  a  motive  there  is  in  all  this  for 
immediate  acceptance  of  God's  offer  of  mercy ! 

But  we  see  another  application  of  this  truth  in  the 
openings  for  service  which  God  continually  puts  before 
us.  We  may  have  to-day  an  opportunity  of  doing  good 
or  of  getting  good.  If  we  let  that  slip,  the  door  that 
opened  to  it  will  be  shut,  and  it  never  will  be  opened 
again.  Other  doors  may  open,  but  that  one  never 
more.  Ah,  how  much  more  watchful  and  industrious 
we  would  be  through  life,  if  we  more  constantly  remem- 
bered that !  But  then  at  last  comes  death,  and  shuts 
the  door  of  all  opportunity,  putting  an  end  to  our  jDro- 
bationary  state.  O  friends,  shall  that  door  shut  us  in, 
or  shut  us  out,  from  the  marriage-feast?     That  is  for  us 


THE   TEN   VIRGINS.  179 

tlie  question  of  questions ;  and  if  we  would  not  be  guilty 
of  the  folly  of  these  short-sighted  virgins,  it  becomes  us 
to  look  well  to  our  supply  of  oil.  For  it  will  be  too  late 
to  go  for  it  when  it  should  be  already  in  our  lamps. 
And  oh  the  agony  of  finding  ourselves  at  length 
excluded  from  the  heavenly  feast  so  long  as  that  feast 
lasts !  Very  powerfully  has  the  English  poet-laureate 
set  the  lesson  of  this  j)arable  to  the  music  of  his  melo- 
dious verse,  and  his  lines  will  form  the  most  fitting 
close  to  our  meditation  on  it. 

"  Late,  late,  so  late  !  and  dark  the  night  and  chill ; 
Late,  late,  so  late !  biit  we  can  enter  still." 
"Too  late,  too  late  !  ye  cannot  enter  now." 

"  No  light  had  we  ;  for  that  we  do  repent ; 
And  learning  that,  the  Bridegroom  will  relent." 
"Too  late,  too  late !  ye  cannot  enter  now." 

"No  light!  so  late  !  and  dark  and  chill  the  night  I 
Oh,  let  us  in,  that  we  may  find  the  light !  " 
"  Oh,  no  !  too  late  !  ye  cannot  enter  now." 

"  Have  we  not  heard  the  Bridegroom  is  so  sweet  ? 
Oh,  let  us  in,  though  late,  to  kiss  his  feet !  " 
"  Too  late,  too  late  !  ye  cannot  enter  now." 

IMay  God  grant  that  these  terrible  words  shall  never 
be  addressed  to  any  one  of  us !     Amen. 


180  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 


XII. 

THE   INTRUSTED    TALENTS. 

(Matt.  XXV.  14-30.) 

The  parable  of  the  talents,  which  forms  our  subject 
for  this  evening,  has  in  it  so  much  in  common  with 
that  of  the  pounds,  which  is  given  in  the  nineteenth 
chapter  of  Luke's  Gospel,  that  the  two  are  apt,  by  the 
merely  superficial  reader,  to  be  considered  as  identical. 
But  when  we  examine  the  circumstances  in  connection 
with  which  each  was  spoken,  and  the  lessons  which 
each  was  designed  to  teach,  we  find  that  they  are  quite 
distinct.  That  was  uttered  by  the  Lord  as  he  was 
drawing  nigh  to  Jerusalem,  and  before  his  triumphal 
entry  into  the  Holy  City :  this,  on  the  Mount  of  Olives, 
three  days  after  his  public  procession  to  the  Temple. 
That  was  addressed  to  the  promiscuous  multitude :  this 
•was  meant  more  particularly  for  the  twelve.  In  that, 
the  same  sum  of  one  pound  is  given  to  each  servant : 
in  this,  one  receives  five  talents,  another  two,  and 
another  one.  That  illustrates  different  degrees  of  im- 
provement of  the  same  opportunity,  Avitli  corresponding 
gradations  of  reward :  this  sets  before  us  equal  pro- 
portionate improvement  of  different  opportunities,  with 
equal  proportionate  reward.  That  was  designed  to 
correct  the  error  of  those  who  were  looking  for  the 
immediate  coming  of  the  kinodom  of  God :  this  was 
intended,  in  conjunction  with  the  story  of  the  ten  vir- 


THE  INTRUSTED   TALENTS.  181 

gins,  to  teacli  that  the  right  attitude  of  tlie  disciple  of 
Jesus,  toward  his  second  coming,  is  one  of  combined 
readiness  and  activity ;  while  in  both  the  episode  of  the 
unprofitable  servant  is  meant  to  warn  us  all  of  the  sug- 
gestive fact,  that  talents  unused  are  as  really  wasted  as 
if  they  had  been  flagrantly  abused. 

Thus  distinct  from  the  parable  of  the  pounds,  that 
of  the  talents  is  the  needful  complement  to  the  story  of 
the  virgins.  The  Lord  Jesus  was  as  far  as  possible 
from  being  one-sided  in  his  teachings ;  and  when  he  in- 
sisted strongly  on  any  particular  quality,  he  took  care 
always  to  guard  his  hearers  from  supposing  that  noth- 
ing else  was  needed.  When  he  urged  them  to  action, 
he  supplemented  his  precept  with  something  which 
reminded  them  of  the  importance  of  devotion  ;  and 
when  he  spoke  of  the  necessity  of  attending  to  inward 
character,  he  combined  with  that  a  strong  enforcement 
of  outward  exertion.  So  we  find,  that  immediately 
after  the  parable  of  the  virgins,  which  taught  the  lesson 
of  watchfulness,  we  have  this  of  the  talents,  which 
emphasizes  the  duty  of  work  He  does  not  mean,  how- 
ever, that  we  should  alternate  vigilance  with  activity, 
but  rather  that  the  two  should  be  combined,  as  in  the 
case  of  the  wall-builders  of  old,  concerning  whom 
Nehemiah  writes:  "The  builders  every  one  had  his 
sword  girded  by  his  side,  and  so  builded ;  and  he  that 
sounded  the  trumpet  was  by  me."  ^  Our  watchfulness  for 
Christ's  coming  is  not  to  degenerate  into  idleness ;  but 
while  we  watch,  we  are  to  work,  each  in  his  allotted 
sphere,  with  the  talents  wherewith  he  has  been  in- 
trusted. 

How  necessary  that  caution  is,  we  may  see  illus- 
trated in  the  case  of  the  Thessalonians,  who,  misun- 

1  Nch.  iv.  18. 


182  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

derstanding  Paul's  references  to  the  second  advent  of 
the  Lord  so  much  as  to  believe  that  it  was  just  at  hand, 
gave  up  their  ordinary  occupations,  thereby  causing 
great  disorder,  and  reducing  themselves  to  dependence 
on  the  charity  of  others  for  their  daily  food.  Similar 
things  have  been  witnessed  also  in  times  greatly  nearer 
our  own,  among  Adventists  and  others ;  and,  therefore, 
we  cannot  but  admire  the  prophetic  foresight  of  the 
Lord,  in  that,  when  he  himself  refers  to  his  second  com- 
ing, he  bids  his  followers  not  only  watch  in  readiness 
for  it,  but  work  in  earnestness  toward  it ;  or,  as  Trench 
has  excellently  put  it,  "  While  the  virgins  are  repre- 
sented as  ivaiting  for  their  Lord,  we  have  here  the  ser- 
vants worki7ig  for  him ;  there  the  inward  life  of  the 
faithful  was  described,  here  his  external  activity.  .  .  . 
That  parable  enforced  the  need  of  keeping  the  heart 
with  all  diligence ;  this,  of  giving  all  diligence  also  in 
our  outward  service  if  we  would  be  found  of  Christ  iu 
peace  at  the  day  of  his  appearing."  ^ 

The  story  itself  is  true  to  the  Oriental  life  of  the 
period ;  for,  when  a  wealthy  man  was  leaving  his  home 
for  a  while,  two  courses  were  open  to  him  for  the 
arrangement  of  his  affairs.  Either  he  might  make  his 
confidential  slaves  his  agents,  committing  to  them  the 
tilling  of  his  land,  and  giving  to  them  his  money  to  be 
used  by  them  in  trade ;  or  he  might  take  advantage  of 
the  money-changing  and  money-lending  system  which 
had  been  introduced  by  the  Phcenicians,  and  which  was 
at  the  time  in  full  operation  throughout  the  Roman 
Empire.  In  the  present  case  the  lord  adopted  the 
former  of  these  courses  ;  and  there  was  at  least  a  tacit 
understanding,  if  no  formal  contract,  that  the  servants 
would  be  rewarded  for  their  fidelity. 

1  Notes  on  the  Parables,  p.  262. 


THE  INTRUSTED   TALENTS.  183 

This  being  the  state  of  the  case,  the  main  lines  of 
interpretation  are  not  difficult  to  discover.  The  master 
is  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  The  servants  are,  in  the  first 
instance,  the  twelve  to  whom  the  parable  was  originally 
addressed ;  but,  in  a  broader  sense,  the  members  of  the 
visible  Church.  The  talents  are  primarily,  perhaps,  the 
gifts  received  for  his  followers,  and  dispensed  to  them, 
by  the  ascended  Christ ;  but  we  may  view  them  in  a 
more  extended  light  as  the  opportunities  of  service 
which  Christ  lias  given  to  all  who  come  into  contact 
with  his  word.  The  going-away  (^f  the  lord  into  a  far 
country  is  the  withdrawal  of  Christ  as  a  visible  pres- 
ence from  the  earth ;  and  the  return  of  the  lord,  "  after 
a  long  time,"  is  the  second  coming  of  Christ,  when  the 
final  reckoning  of  judgment  shall  be  held.  The  trad- 
ing of  the  servants  with  the  talents  is  the  faithful  use 
made  by  his  professed  disciples,  of  the  oi)portunities  of 
service  wliich  Christ  has  given  them  ;  while  the  treat- 
ment of  the  servants  by  their  master  on  his  return  sets 
before  us  the  principles  on  which  the  awards  of  the 
Judge  of  all  the  earth  shall  ultimately  be  made. 

I.  Now,  with  these  outlines  before  us,  we  may  be 
able,  under  their  guidance,  to  bring  out  some  of  the 
most  suggestive  features  of  the  teaching  of  the  parable. 
First  of  all,  we  have  here  an  ex})lanation  of  the  diver- 
sity which  exists  between  individuals  in  the  matter  of 
opportunity  of  service  in  the  cause  of  the  Redeemer. 
We  all  observe  the  fact  that  there  is  such  a  diversity. 
Some  have  received  five  talents,  some  two,  and  some 
only  one ;  and  at  first,  some  dissatisfaction  may  be  felt 
with  wliat  looks  like  inequality  in  the  distribution. 
But  here  is  the  account  of  the  matter:  "to  every  man 
according  to  his  several  ability."     The  talents,  there- 


184  TUB  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

fore,  do  not  denote  the  original  endowments  and  quali- 
ties which  men  bring  into  the  world  with  them,  or  the 
possessions  into  which  they  come  b}^  right  of  birth. 
No  doubt,  these  also  are  gifts  of  God,  which  ought  to 
be  held  and  used  by  men  as  stewards  of  his  "•  manifold 
bounties."  But  it  is  evident  that  the  reference  here  is 
not  to  these.  It  is  rather  to  those  opportunities  which 
have  been  given  to  men  in  consequence  of  their  abilities 
and  environment.  In  his  bestowment  of  spiritual  oppor- 
tunities, Christ  has  regard  both  to  the  natural  abilities 
and  providential  surroundings  of  each  man;  and  as,  in 
the  sovereignty  of  God,  there  is  diversity  in  the  latter, 
so,  in  the  gracious  administration  of  Christ,  there  is 
similar  diversity  in  the  former.  No  man  has  more 
opportunities  of  service  than  he  can  avail  himself  of  to 
the  full,  and  every  man  has  just  as  many  as  he  can  use 
with  advantage.  When  tliis  principle  is  clearlj-  under- 
stood, it  takes  away  all  ground  for  pride  in  those  who 
have  received  five  talents,  and  all  cause  for  discontent 
in  those  who  have  obtained  but  one.  Jealousy  has  no 
place  here.  Each  has  precisely  what  is  fitted  to  his 
ability  and  circumstances,  —  no  more,  no  less.  From 
him  who  has  received  more  tale.nts,  the  full  improve- 
ment of  all  he  has  will  be  required ;  but  he  to  whom 
fewer  have  been  given  will  be  held  responsible  only  for 
those  that  have  been  conferred  upon  him.  If  Christ 
has  given  you  only  one  talent,  it  is  because  he  sees  that 
at  present  you  could  not  handle  more.  If  he  has  given 
you  five,  it  is  because  he  sees  that  you  are  competent 
to  deal  even  with  them.  As  Trench  has  said,  "  The 
natural  is  the  ground  upon  which  the  spiritual  is  super- 
induced ;  and  grace  does  not  dissolve  the  groundwork 
of  the  individual  character,  nor  abolish  all  its  peculiari- 
ties, nor  bring  all  that  are  subject  to  it  to  a  conuuon 


TUE  INTRUSTED   TALENTS.  185 

standard.  The  natural  gifts  are  as  the  vessel,  which 
may  be  large,  or  may  be  small,  and  which  receives 
according  to  its  capacity,  but  which  in  each  case  is 
filled ;  so  that  we  are  not  to  think  of  him  who  had 
received  the  two  talents  as  incompletely  furnished,  in 
comparison  with  him  that  had  received  the  five,  any 
more  than  we  should  affirm  a  small  circle  incomplete, 
as  compared  with  a  large." '  Observe,  each  vessel  is 
filled ;  and  therefore  there  is  no  room  for  jealousy 
between  different  individuals,  or  for  dissatisfaction  with 
our  several  opportunities,  for  each  is  endowed  up  to  the 
measure  of  ability  to  use  that  which  he  has  received. 
The  man  with  the  one  talent  may  not  be  able,  will  not 
be  able,  to  fill  so  wide  a  sphere  as  he  who  has  five  ;  but 
he  can  fill  his  oivn  sphere,  and  that  is  all  that  will  be 
required  at  his  hand. 

Now,  it  is  of  great  importance  that  we  should  remem- 
ber this  principle ;  for  there  are  few  things  that  so 
paralyze  the  energy  of  the  soul  as,  on  the  one  hand, 
pride  because  our  sphere  is  so  large,  and,  on  the  other, 
discontent  because  it  is  so  limited.  The  practical  result 
of  both  is  uselessness,  by  reason  of  unfaithfulness. 
How  important,  therefore,  that  we  should  learn  the 
lesson  which  this  expression  of  the  parable  teaches,  and 
which  the  poet  has  put  into  the  following  lines  !  — 

•  Be  sober,  then,  be  vigilant;  forbear 
To  seek  or  covet  aught  beyond  thy  sphere  : 
Only  be  strong  to  labor,  and  allow 
Thy  ^Master's  will  to  appoint  the  where  and  how. 
Serve  God  ;  and  winter's  cold  or  summer's  heat, 
The  breozy  mountain  or  the  dusty  street, 
Scene,  season,  circumstance,  alike  shall  be 
His  welcome  messengers  of  joj'  to  thee; 
His  kingdom  is  within  thee  !     Rise,  and  prove 
A  present  earnest  of  the  bliss  above." 

1  Notes  on  the  Parables,  pp.  267,  268. 


186  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

II.  But  another  suggestive  thought  in  this  parable  is, 
that  new  opportunities  come  to  us  with  our  improve- 
ment of  those  which  we  already  have.  Tlie  first  servant 
said,  "  I  have  gained  five  talents  more ; "  and  the  second 
exclaimed,  "I  have  gained  two  other  talents  besides 
them."  By  utilizing  what  we  have,  we  get  what  we 
have  not.  By  doing  what  we  can,  we  attain  ability  to 
do  that  which  was  originally  impossible  to  us.  The 
world  is  familiar  with  this  law  in  the  matter  of  money- 
making.  The  foundations  of  colossal  fortunes  have 
been  laid  in  the  taking  advantage  at  first  of  little 
opportunities.  One  of  our  religious  weeklies  lately 
had  a  series  of  brief  articles  entitled,  "Willing  to 
Shovel,"  which  showed  how  men  who  ultimately  became 
millionnaires  began  with  the  earning  of  a  few  cents  by 
doing  such  work  as  cleaning  the  snow  from  the  sidewalks, 
or  sawing  wood  in  the  cellar.  But  the  same  thing  holds 
in  public  life.  Take  such  a  career  as  that  of  either  of 
our  two  martyr  Presidents,  and  you  will  see  how,  when 
the  one  talent  is  utilized,  it  ultimately  increases  into 
ten.  There  is  a  difference  between  the  boy  on  the  tow- 
line  of  the  canal,  and  the  statesman  in  the  Senate,  or 
the  President  in  the  White  House  ;  and  it  was  all  the 
result  of  his  using  to  the  full  opportunities  just  as  they 
came. 

But  the  principle  holds  true  also  in  the  spiritual 
department.  A  young  man  in  a  church  begins  to  take 
an  interest  in  Sunday-school  work.  This  draws  the 
attention  of  some  of  its  members  to  him.  He  is  asked 
by  one  of  them  to  make  an  address  at  some  social  gath- 
ering. He  does  it  so  admirably,  that,  though  he  is  only  a 
grocer's  apprentice,  his  pastor  and  some  friends  go  home 
saying,  "That  youth  is  admirably  fitted  for  the  minis- 
try of  the  gospel."     The  matter  is  put  before  him :  he 


THE  INTRUSTED   TALENTS.  187 

expresses  his  willingness  to  do  any  thing  for  which  God 
may  open  the  way.  Arrangements  are  made  for  his 
education ;  he  enters  on  the  work  of  the  pastorate : 
and,  after  years  of  service  in  smaller  spheres,  he  finishes 
his  life  as  the  minister  of  one  of  the  largest  and  most 
important  churches  in  the  metropolis  of  the  land.  That 
was  the  career  of  Alexander  Raleigh,  —  one  of  the  most 
eloquent  preachers  whom  London  has  heard  in  the 
present  generation.  But  there  have  been  scores,  I  had 
almost  said  hundreds,  like  it,  where  even  the  one  talent 
has  become  ten,  and  multitudes  more  -where  the  two 
have  become  four.  The  true  method  of  increasing 
our  sphere  is  to  fdl  to  overflowing  that  in  wdiich  we  are. 
The  horizon  will  widen  as  we  climb  the  hill.  Only,  to 
secure  that  widening,  we  must  keep  walking  up.  This 
is  the  principle  of  Christ's  administration  of  the  kingdom 
of  God ;  and  wherever  you  go,  you  will  find  illustri- 
ous examples  of  its  operation.  Even  now,  therefore, 
it  is  true  that  "  to  him  that  hath,  shall  more  be  given ; " 
and  we  have  in  this  the  foretaste  and  earnest  of  the 
awards  of  the  judgment  at  the  last.  For,  when  he  who 
has  made  the  five  talents  ten  lays  down  his  work  at  the 
Master's  feet,  the  response  of  the  Lord  is,  "  Thou  hast 
been  faithful  over  a  few  things :  I  will  make  tliee  ruler 
over  many  things ;  enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy 
Lord."  So  heaven  shall  give  new  opportunities  of 
service  to  them  who  have  made  the  most  faithful  use 
of  those  of  earth.  As  much  as  the  ten  talents  are 
superior  to  the  five  on  earth,  so  much  will  the  "  many 
things  "  of  heaven  be  superior  to  the  "  few  things  "  of 
earth.  So  much,  —  nay,  ineffably  more.  The  reward 
of  heaven  is  thus  a  wider  sphere  of  service  than  earth 
could  furnish^  without  the  weariness  Avhich  is  here  the 
consequence  of  labor,  and  with  a  fuller  fellowship  in 


188  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR 

that  joy  which  Christ  has  in  the  doing  of  the  Father's 
win.  What  the  nature  of  the  service  shall  be,  we  can- 
not tell,  any  more  than  we  can  rightly  image  to  our- 
selves the  intensity  of  the  joy ;  but  there  is  the  principle, 
and  it  is  all  the  more  assured  to  us  by  the  fact  that  we 
see  it  in  operation  here  and  now.  The  kingdom  is  one 
in  heaven  and  on  earth,  and  the  law  for  both  of  "these 
stages  is  the  same.  Faithful  service  widens  opportu- 
nity. That  is  the  seed-thought  in  this  part  of  the 
parable.  Will  you  act  upon  it  now,  that  your  life  on 
earth  may  increase  in  usefulness,  and  your  experience 
in  heaven  may  be  one  of  exalted,  joyful,  and  laborious 
honor  ? 

III.  But  now  we  come  to  the  darker  side  of  the 
picture,  which  tells  us  what  must  be  the  result  of  neg- 
lecting our  opportunities  ;  for  it  is  time  that  we  should 
look  at  the  conduct  and  doom  of  the  unprofitable 
servant. 

Here  let  us  observe,  first,  what  is  said  concerning 
the  man  with  the  one  talent.  It  is  not  alleged  that  he 
had  wasted  his  Master's  goods,  like  the  unjust  steward, 
or  that  he  had  spent  the  talent  in  riotous  living,  as  the 
prodigal  did  his  portion ;  but  only  that  "  he  went  and 
hid  the  talent  in  the  earth."  He  simply  did  nothing 
with  it.  Now,  that  means  that  he  "neglected"  his 
opportunities.  He  did  not  lead  a  scandalously  wicked 
life ;  yet  he  took  no  care  to  improve  the  openings  for 
the  service  of  God  and  his  generation  which  were  put 
before  him,  but  passed  them  by  as  if  he  had  never  seen 
them.  Not  the  doing  of  positive  wrong,  but  the  neg- 
lect to  do  that  which  God  has  given  us  the  means  of 
doing;  not  the  commission  of  grievous  sin,  but  the 
leaving  undone  of  that  which  we  have  the  ability  and 


THE  INTRUSTED   TALENTS.  189 

opportunity  to  do,  is  what  here  is  charged,  on  his  own 
confession,  on  this  slothful  servant.  And,  indeed,  that 
is  serious  enough ;  for  to  do  nothing  at  all,  when  we 
can  do  much,  is  the  most  heartless  way,  often,  of  doing 
wrong.  Life,  like  mone}',  ought  to  be  made  productive  ; 
and  the  interest  to  which  it  is  to  be  put  is  that  of  ear- 
nest and  laborious  exertion  in  the  service  of  Christ,  not 
only  for  the  upbuilding  of  our  own  characters,  as  the 
parable  of  the  virgins  enforced,  but  also  for  the  benefit 
of  our  fellow-men,  as  that  of  the  talents  has  specially 
emphasized.  Life,  like  seed,  is  to  be  sown,  not  hoarded  ; 
and  the  field  in  which  we  are  to  sow  it  is  human  hearts, 
our  own,  and  those  of  our  neighbors.  When  we  put  the 
matter  in  this  way,  we  see  how  easy  it  is  for  one  to  lose 
one's  life  by  no  positive  iniquity,  but  simply  by  neglect ; 
and  so  the  warning  that  we  should  not  allow  our  great 
and  golden  opportunities  to  slip  by  us  unimproved  be- 
comes all-important.  To  this  end,  let  us  daily  endeavor 
to  make  ourselves  and  the  world  better  by  laying  our- 
selves out  for  the  service  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  seeking 
to  do  every  thing  in  his  name.  Even  a  heathen  emperor 
was  accustomed  to  say,  "  To-day  I  have  lost  a  day," 
when,  in  the  evening,  he  could  not  point  to  any  thing 
which  he  had  that  day  done  for  the  welfare  of  his  race  ; 
and,  in  the  Christian  sense  of  the  word,  that  is  a  lost 
life,  no  matter  how  blameless  otherwise  it  may  seem  to 
be,  in  which  the  man's  own  salvation  has  been  neglected, 
and  the  service  of  "  his  generation  by  the  will  of  God" 
ignored. 

But  the  case  of  this  wicked  servant  has  some  other 
features  of  special  interest  for  us.  Thus  it  is  notice- 
able, that  he  was  the  man  who  had  received  the  one 
talent.  It  is  not  said,  indeed,  that  he  hid  it  in  the 
earth  because  it  was  only  one ;  and  I  do  not  desire  to 


190  THE  PAKABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

impute  motives  to  him.  Neither  do  I  wish  to  produce 
upon  you  the  impression  that  only  they  who  have  very 
limited  spheres  are  in  danger  of  nbglecting  their  oppor- 
tunities ;  for  that  is  far  from  being  the  case,  and  many ■\ 
of  those  who  have  received  five  talents  are  guilty  of 
failing  to  improve  them.  But  yet,  it  is  true  that  many 
are  content  to  do  nothing  because  they  cannot  do 
"some  great  thing."  They  think  that  if  they  were 
only  in  other  and  better  circumstances,  they  would 
exert  themselves  to  purpose,  for  then  it  would  be  worth 
the  while  ;  but  now,  they  say,  "  We  have  no  influence. 
If  we  had  only  the  abilities  of  such  an  one,  or  the 
wealth  of  such  another,  or  the  position  of  such  a  third, 
we  might  do  something ;  but  as  it  is,  it  is  useless  to 
attempt  to  do  any  thing,"  and  they  do  nothing.  Now, 
in  ansAver  to  all  such  excuses,  we  have  to  say,  first,  as 
we  have  said  before,  that  we-  are  not  accountable  for 
what  we  have  not,  but  only  for  what  we  have  ;  and, 
second,  that  if  a  man  neglects  the  work  that  is  lying  at 
his  hands  no7V,  however  lowly  that  may  be,  he  would 
equally  neglect  the  opportunities  of  a  wider  sphere  if 
he  were  put  into  such  a  position.  He  who  buried  the 
one  talent  would  have  buried  the  five  if  he  had  received 
them ;  for,  though  the  smallness  of  the  trust  may  have 
aggravated  him,  the  reason  of  its  doing  so,  as,  indeed, 
also  of  his  failure  to  employ  it,  was  in  his  character,  and 
not  in  its  littleness.  "  He  that  is  faithful  in  that  which 
is  least  is  faithful  also  in  much,  and  he  that  is  unjust 
in  the  least  is  unjust  also  in  much." 

Again,  it  is  exceedingly  significant,  that  this  servant 
alleges  in  excuse  of  his  conduct,  that  he  knew  that  his 
master  was  "  an  austere  man,  reaping  where  he  had 
not  sowed,  and  gathering  where  he  had  not  strewed." 
And  those  who  neoiect  God's  service  do  so  because 


THE  INTRUSTED   TALENTS.  191 

they  cherish  wrong  views  of  God  himself.  Thej'"  are 
afraid  of  him  as  an  exacting  task-master,  and  therefore 
they  try  to  do  as  little  for  him  as  possible ;  whereas,  if 
they  only  loved  him  as  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  who  gave  his  Son  that  we  might  be  re- 
deemed, they  would  feel  that  no  service  which  they 
could  render  would  be  adequate  to  express  their  grati- 
tude. As  Dr.  Dods  has  said,^  "  All  wrongness  of  con- 
duct is  at  bottom  based  on  a  wrong  view  of  God. 
Nothing  so  conduces  to  right  action  as  right  thoughts 
about  God.  If  we  think,  with  this  servant,  that  God 
is  hard,  grudging  to  give  and  greedy  to  get,  taking 
note  of  all  shortcomings,  but  making  no  acknowledg- 
ment of  sincere  service,  exacting  the  utmost  farthing, 
and  making  no  abatement  or  allowance  ;  if  we  one  way 
or  other  virtually  come  to  think  that  God  never  really 
delights  in  our  efforts  after  good,  and  that  whatever 
we  attempt  in  our  life  he  will  coldly  weigh  and  scorn, 
—  then  manifestly  we  shall  have  no  heart  to  labor  for 
him." 

Now,  concerning  this  view  of  God's  character,  two 
things  have  to  be  said.  In  the  first  place,  even  if  it 
were  true,  those  who  hold  it  are  acting  with  egregious 
inconsistency  when  they  let  the  opportunities  of  life 
pass  unimproved ;  since,  the  more  rigorous  God  is,  the 
more  sure  he  will  be  to  take  notice  of  and  punish  their 
unfaithfulness.  That  is  the  answer  made  by  his  lord 
to  the  insinuation  of  the  servant  here,  and  so  out  of 
his  own  mouth  he  was  condemned.  But,  in  the  second 
place,  it  is  not  true  that  God  is  thus  austere  and  hard. 
He  "doth  not  exact  day  labor,  light  denied."  He 
does  7iot  require  from  an}"-  one  an  account  of  that  which 
he  has  not  received  or  cannot  use.     Neither  does  he 

1  The  Parables  of  our  Lord,  p.  2G1. 


192  THE  PABABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

deal  with  men  after  the  fashion  of  a  tyrant.  He  is  a 
loving  Father,  if  only  they  will  let  him  love  them. 
His  law  is  such  that  in  the  keeping  of  it  they  may  find 
their  highest  good ;  and  his  gospel  is  all  love  together, 
—  love  in  its  source,  love  in  its  manifestation,  love  in 
its  effects :  so  that  it  is  a  libel  alike  on  his  character  and 
revelation  to  call  him  "  austere."  But  if  men  so  think 
of  him,  they  cannot  but  neglect  their  opportunities ;  for 
so  to  think  of  him,  is  to  become  a  slave  crouching  in 
blind  terror  before  him,  and  altogether  set  against  his 
service,  instead  of  a  son  delighting  in  his  affection. 
Here  is  the  heart  of  the  whole  matter.  So  long  as  a  man 
has  this  estimate  of  God,  he  will  imagine  that  his  sphere 
is  smaller  than  it  ought  to  be,  and  his  life  will  become 
aimless  and  indefinite,  without  any  concentration  of  pur- 
pose or  any  energy  of  activity.  But  if,  through  faith 
in  Jesus  Christ,  we  accept  God  as  our  Father,  who  has 
forgiven  our  sins  at  the  cost  of  the  great  sacrifice  on 
Calvary,  and  who  is  following  us  continually  with  his 
love,  we  shall  be  led  to  offer  him  the  homage  of  our 
hearts ;  and  our  lives,  catching  the  fervor  of  our  spirits, 
will  sphere  themselves  into  unity  and  completeness,  and 
find  their  chosen  orbit  in  rotating  around  him  as  their 
centre  of  attraction.  We  will  say,  like  Paul,  "  The  love 
of  Christ  constraineth  us;  because  we  thus  judge,  tliat  if 
one  died  for  all,  then  these  all  died ;  and  that  he  died 
for  all,  that  we  who  live  should  not  henceforth  live 
unto  ourselves,  but  unto  him  who  died  for  us  and  rose 
again."  ^  Wondrous  paradox,  yet  suggestive  truth !  the 
fear  of  God  as  an  "  austere  "  One  makes  us  heedless  of 
his  service ;  but  the  love  of  God  as  our  Father  and  our 
Friend,  through  Christ,  inspires  us  with  devotion  to  him- 
self, and  impels  us  to  become  his  earnest  servants.     Let 

1  2  Cor.  V.  14,  15. 


THE  INTRUSTED    TALENTS.  193 

US,  therefore,  seek  this  "  spirit  of  adoption,"  and  shut  our 
.ears  to  all  such  misrepresentations  of  Jehovah  as  this 
servant  made.  There  be  many  in  these  days,  young 
men,  who  would  caricature  God  to  you,  and  endeavor 
to  persuade  you  that  he  is  "  an  infinite  tyrant,"  only 
that  they  may  set  you  against  him,  and  prevail  upon 
you  to  repudiate  your  allegiance  unto  him.  But  believe 
them  not.  His  name  and  nature  is  Love.  His  gospel 
is  a  revelation  of  mercy.  His  reign  is  one  of  justice, 
and  in  the  cross  of  his  Son  all  these  attributes  are  seen 
in  blended  harmony,  working  together  for  the  salvation 
of  men.  "  Gracious  is  the  Lord,  and  righteous ;  yea, 
our  God  is  merciful."  "  God  so  loved  the  world,  that 
he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth 
in  him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life." 
Keep  these  truths  before  your  minds.  Lay  them  up  in 
the  memories  of  your  hearts ;  and  the  more  you  realize 
their  meaning,  the  less  likely  will  j'ou  be  to  yield  to  the 
enticements  of  those  who  would  gild  sin  with  a  plating 
of  respectability  by  representing  it  as  a  revolt  for  lib- 
erty against  the  tj'ranny  of  God.  Ah!  there  are  no 
more  hapless  slaves  than  those  who  are  thus  "  lords  of 
themselves,  that  heritage  of  woe ; "  and  that  is  perfect 
freedom  which  lovingly  accepts  the  service  of  God. 

IV.  But  we  must  look  now,  for  a  moment  or  two,  at 
the  sentence  pronounced  on  this  unprofitable  servant. 
"  Take  the  talent  from  him  ; "  that  is,  let  his  opportuni- 
ties forever  cease.  Here  is  a  clear  end  of  probation. 
"And  give  it  to  him  who  hath  ten  talents;"  that  is, 
the  opportunities  forfeited  by  him  will  be  added  to 
those  gained  by  the  faitliful.  How  that  is  to  be  done, 
we  cannot  tell ;  and  yet  we  have,  even  in  this  life,  a 
clear  analogy  to  what  is  here  implied,  in  the  fact  that 


194  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

the  duties  which  have  been  neglected  by  a  servant  who 
is  dismissed  are  turned  over  to  be  performed  by  one 
who  has  been  already  proved  to  be  trustworthy,  to  the 
increase  at  once  of  his  honor  and  emolument.  "  Capa- 
city is  extirpated  by  disuse," '  while  its  diligent  exercise 
enlarges  and  ennobles  it.  That  is  the  law  here ;  and,  so 
far  as  we  may  judge  from  this  parable,  it  will  be  the  law 
at  the  final  judgment,  and  will  determine  the  ultimate 
destiny  of  each.  But  this  is  not  all.  "  Cast  ye  the 
unprofitable  servant  into  outer  darkness :  there  shall  be 
weeping,  and  gnashing  of  teeth."  Who  among  us  can 
contemplate  such  a  doom  without  emotion?  —  "dark- 
ness," where  no  ray  of  God's  countenance  ever  pene- 
trates ;  "darkness"  unrelieved,  unmitigated,  and  eternal ; 
"  outer  darkness,"  away  from  the  abode  of  God  and  of 
the  holy  ;  "outer  darkness,"  made  more  miserable  by  the 
wailing  of  those  who  now  unavailiugly  upbraid  them- 
selves for  their  folly  and  their  selfishness.  And  this  is 
to  be  the  end  of  burying  our  talent  by  neglecting  our 
opportunities.  Oh,  let  us  be  warned  in  time !  for  the 
warning  here  is  given  in  love,  in  order  that  we  may  be 
kept  from  continuing  in  that  course  which  must  have 
this  dreadful  result.  Never  but  once,  during  his  abode 
on  the  earth,  did  our  Lord  blast  any  created  thing ;  and 
that  was  when  he  came  to  the  fig-tree,  looking  for  fruit, 
and  found  thereon  "  nothing  but  leaves."  He  did  not 
blight  it  into  perpetual  barrenness  because  it  produced 
wild  fruit,  or  because  it  bore  poisonous  figs,  but  because 
he  found  on  it  "  nothing  but  leaves  ;  "  and  so  the  curse 
of  an  eternal  withering  shall  fall  at  last  upon  the  soul 
which  has  done  nothing  with  its  opportunities  upon  the 
earth. 

1  Horace  Bushnell. 


THE  INTRUSTED  TALENTS.  195 

"  Ah  !  who  shall  thus  the  Master  meet, 
And  before  his  awful  judgiiieut-seat 
Lay  down  for  golden  sheaves 
Nothing  but  leaves  ?  " 

Let  US  not,  I  beseech  you,  be  found  at  last  in  this  great 
condemnation.  And,  that  we  may  guard  against  it,  let 
us  begin  now  to  cry,  like  Paul,  "  Lord,  what  wilt  thou 
have  me  to  do?"  that  like  liim  also  we  may  fill  our 
lives  brimful  with  that  ministry  of  love  and  self-sacrifice 
which  shall  be  crowned  at  last  with  the  Divine  com- 
mendation, "Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant:  thou 
hast  been  faithful  over  a  few  things,  I  will  make  thee 
ruler  over  many  things ;  enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy 
Lord." 


196  TUE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 


XIII. 

THE   GROWTH   OF    THE   SEED. 

(Mark  iv.  26-29.) 

This  parable  is  recorded  by  Mark  alone.  It  is  the 
only  one  that  is  thus  peculiar  to  him.  He  gives,  in  all, 
but  four  of  the  Lord's  parables.  Of  these,  two  are  to 
be  found  also  both  in  Matthew  and  Luke,  and  one  in 
Matthew.  This  alone  has  a  place  only  in  his  narrative. 
For  that  reason,  some  have  attempted  to  show  that  we 
have  in  this  also  only  a  modification  of  some  other  para- 
ble, such  as  that  of  the  tares ;  but  my  conviction  is, 
that  all  who  study  it  with  candor  and  attention  will 
agree  with  Neander  ^  when  he  says  that  it  "  bears  the 
undeniable  stamp  of  originality,  both  in  its  matter  and 
form." 

It  is  distinct  from  all  the  others ;  and  yet  its  very 
position  here  indicates  that  it  is  to  be  regarded  as  sup- 
plementary to  that  of  the  sower,  and  was  designed  to 
complete  the  history  of  the  growth  of  the  good  seed 
which  fell  on  the  good  ground.  As  you  will  remember, 
the  object  of  the  parable  of  the  sower,  so-called,  was  to 
illustrate  the  truth  that  the  fate  of  the  seed  after  it  has 
been  sown  depends  on  the  nature  of  the  soil.  You 
cannot  have  forgotten,  also,  that  it  gives  a  minute 
account  of  what  happened  in  the  cases  of  that  which 
fell  by  the  wayside,  of  that  which  fell  on  a  thin  layer 

1  Life  of  Christ,  Bohn's  translation,  p.  346, 


THE  GROWTH  OF  TUB  SEED.  197 

of  earth  just  above  a  rock,  and  of  that  which  fell  among 
thorns.  But  no  such  details  are  furnished  concerning 
that  which  fell  on  good  ground.  We  are  simply  told 
that  "it  brought  forth  fruit,  some  an  luuidred-fold, 
some  sixty-fold,  and  some  thirty-fold."  Thus  the  only 
points  to  which  attention  is  directed  by  it  are,  that,  in 
the  good  ground,  the  seed  was  productive,  though  not 
all  equally  productive.  But  no  incidents,  like  the 
devouring  by  birds  of  that  which  fell  by  the  wayside, 
or  the  rapid  springing-up  and  after  withering  of  that 
which  fell  on  rocky  soil,  or  the  being  choked  by  the 
overgrowth  of  other  things,  as  was  the  case  with  that 
which  fell  among  thorns,  are  specified  in  regard  to  the 
germination  of  the  seed  on  the  fourth  kind  of  soil. 
Here,  however,  in  this  parable  which  Mark  alone  has 
preserved,  the  full  story  of  the  growth  of  the  seed  on 
the  good  ground,  so  far  as  man  can  see  it,  or  has  any 
thing  to  do  with  it,  is  told.  That  which  the  parable  of 
the  sower  merely  summarizes,  this  one  minutely  de- 
scribes. It  may,  therefore,  be  regarded  as  a  kind  of 
appendix  to  the  parable  of  the  sower,  supplementing 
what,  as  to  the  good  ground,  had  been  left  vague  and 
indistinct  therein. 

But  we  shall  come  at  the  particular  teaching  of  this 
beautiful  allegory,  if  we  enumerate  with  care  these  fol- 
lowing things  ;  namely,  the  facts  which  it  presupposes, 
the  truths  which  it  illustrates,  and  the  lessons  which  it 
enforces. 

I.  Let  us  attend,  first,  to  the  facts  which  it  presup- 
poses. It  is  implied  very  clearly,  then,  that  the  seed 
used  is  good  seed.  The  germinating  principle  exists 
not  in  wholesome  grain  alone.  The  tares  spring  up,  and 
bring  forth  fruit,  as  well  as  the  wheat ;  the  berry  of  the 


198  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

deadly  nightshade,  as  well  as  the  acorn  of  the  oak ;  the 
seed  of  the  poisonous  hemlock,  as  well  as  the  shoot  of 
the  vine.  Even  so  an  evil  word  spoken,  or  a  dark  sug- 
gestion insinuated,  or  a  false  doctrine  inculcated,  will 
produce  fruits  after  its  own  kind,  as  surely  as  the  truth 
will  reproduce  itself,  and  bring  forth  results  of  right- 
eousness and  peace.  But  in  this  case,  the  sower  used 
good  seed,  even  that  which  is  described  by  Christ  in  his 
comprehensive  interpretation  of  the  first  of  his  parables, 
"•  The  seed  is  the  word  of  God." 

It  is  implied,  again,  in  the  allegory  before  us,  that 
this  good  seed  was  sown.  "  So  is  the  kingdom  of  God, 
as  if  a  man  should  cast  seed  into  the  ground."  Weeds 
propagate  themselves.  They  produce  their  seeds,  and 
the  winds  of  heaven  may  scatter  them  abroad,  or  the 
fowls  of  the  air  may  carry  them  hither  and  thither ;  or 
the  happy  schoolboy,  laughing  the  while  at  the  fancy 
that  he  can  tell  the  hour  thereby,  may  blow  them  with 
his  breath :  and  wherever  they  fall,  if  there  be  soil,  they 
grow.  But  grain  must  be  cultivated.  It  will  not  thus 
sow  itself.  The  law  regarding  all  the  cereals  is,  that 
they  must  be  sown  and  gathered  in  by  men.  Now,  is 
not  the  analogy  here  most  suggestive  ?  Is  it  not  true 
also  in  the  spiritual  department,  that  weeds  sow  them- 
selves? There  needs  no  labor  to  fill  the  heart  of  a 
child  with  disobedience,  selfishness,  or  impurity.  All 
you  have  to  do  is  to  leave  him  alone.  The  moral 
atmosphere  around  him  is  laden  with  germs  of  iniquity ; 
and  there  is,  alas !  within  him  only  too  kindly  a  soil  for 
the  reception  of  such  things,  so  that  they  are  sure  to 
spring  up  there  in  luxuriant  abundance.  And  what  is 
true  of  a  single  soul  is  equally  so  of  a  neighborhood,  a 
nation,  and  the  human  race  as  a  whole.  It  is  in  vain 
here  that  we  trust  to  nature  alone.     We  can  reclaim 


THE   GROWTH  OF  THE  SEED.  199 

waste  places  only  by  reducing  them  to  cultivation,  and 
sowing  in  them  seed  that  shall  by  and  by  wave  with 
harvests  of  precious  grain ;  and  we  can  secure  the  ele- 
vation of  the  depraved  in  our  city  streets,  the  evangeli- 
zation of  our  nation,  and  the  conversion  of  the  world, 
only  by  diffusing  the  gospel  of  the  grace  of  God.  "  For 
whosoever  shall  call  on  the  name  of  the  Lord  shall  be 
saved.  How  then  shall  they  call  on  him  in  whom  they 
have  not  believed?  and  how  shall  they  believe  in  him 
of  whom  they  have  not  heard?  and  how  shall  they  hear 
without  a  preacher  ?  and  how  shall  they  preach  except 
they  be  sent  ?  "  ' 

Once  more,  it  is  implied  in  this  parable,  that  the  seed 
fell  on  good  ground,  into  which  it  found  an  entrance. 
As  I  have  already  hinted,  the  difference  between  this 
allegory  and  that  of  the  sower  is,  that,  in  the  case 
before  us,  the  seed  has  all  fallen  into  good  ground, 
whereas,  in  the  other,  that  could  be  said  of  onl}'-  one 
portion.  That  which  alighted  on  the  wayside  never 
got  into  the  soil  at  all ;  that  which  fell  among  thorns  got 
into  uncongenial  and  pre-occupied  soil,  and  that  which 
fell  upon  the  rocky  ground  had  no  deepness  of  earth. 
But  here  not  only  was  the  good  seed  sown,  but  it  fell 
into  favorable  soil ;  and  so  it  grew  without  interruption. 
You  have  heard  of  the  wheat  that  was  found  in  the 
case  of  an  Egy|)tian  mummy.  For  many  centuries  it 
had  lain  there  without  growing,  for  it  had  not  there 
those  circumstances  which  are  indispensable  to  growth. 
But  when  it  was  taken,  and  put  into  the  soil  where  it 
could  have  the  inlluences  of  the  earth  and  heat  and 
light  and  moisture,  it  very  soon  sprung  up,  and  brought 
forth  many-fold.  Now,  in  the  same  way,  the  word  of 
God  will  not  grow  in  a  heart  unless  it  be  by  that  heart 

1  Rom.  X.  13-15. 


200  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

received.  So  long  as  it  is  outside  of  the  heart,  it  takes 
no  root  in  the  man.  It  must  be  held,  not  by  the  cold 
mummy  grasp  of  a  dead  hand,  but  by  the  warm,  earnest 
embrace  of  a  liviiig  and  believing  heart ;  and  then  it 
will  spring  up.  To  no  purpose,  therefore,  do  we  look 
for  the  fruit  of  truth  in  the  soul,  until  it  is  believed. 
We  may  hear  it,  we  may  examine  it,  we  may  reason 
about  it,  we  may  even  enjoy  the  excitement  of  contro- 
versy about  it ;  but  until  we  believe  it,  we  keep  it  still 
outside  of  us,  and  it  cannot  grow  in  us.  This  is  why 
so  many  constant  worshippers  in  our  sanctuaries  show 
no  spiritual  improvement  from  their  sabbath  privileges. 
They  enjoy  the  accessories  of  the  service  ;  they  are 
pleased  with  the  intellect  or  eloquence  of  the  preacher : 
but  they  do  not  believe  the  truth  that  is  presented  to 
them  ;  and  so  "  the  word  preached  doth  not  profit  them, 
not  being  mixed  with  faith  in  the  hearing  of  it."  There 
can  be  no  spiritual  growth  unless  the  word  is  believ- 
ingly  received  into  the  heart.  What  a  man  believes  in, 
that  he  grows  to  be.  If  he  believe  in  selfishness,  he 
will  become  selfish ;  if  he  believe  in  pleasure,  he  will 
become  a  pleasure-seeker ;  and  if  he  believe  in  Christ, 
he  will  become  Christ-like.  The  root  of  growth  is 
faith.  The  seed  will  not  spring  up  unless  it  finds  a 
congenial  soil. 

II.  But,  passing  now  to  the  consideration  of  the  truths 
directly  illustrated  by  this  parable,  it  is  pertinent  to 
observe  that  it  confines  our  attention  to  what  goes  on 
in  the  development  of  the  seed  between  the  time  of  its 
being  sown  and  its  being  harvested ;  and  it  tells  us  that 
all  that  lies  between  these  two  limits  takes  place  accord- 
ing to  laws,  the  operation  of  which  is  inscrutable  to 
men,  but  the  existence  of  which  reveals  itself  in  the 


THE  GROWTH   OF  TUE   SEED.  201 

uniform  sequence  of  certain  stages  which  are  reached 
in  the  gradual  evolution  of  the  grain  from  its  initial 
condition  to  maturity.  Or,  to  put  it  in  a  more  com- 
pact form,  this  parable  treats  simply  and  only  of  the 
growth  of  the  seed,  and  sets  before  us  these  three 
things  regarding  it :  namely,  the  mystery  of  the  mode, 
the  gradualness  of  the  progress,  and  the  definite  and 
regular  stages  through  which  that  progress  passes. 

There  is,  first,  the  mystery  of  the  mode.  "  It  spring- 
eth  up,  he  knoweth  not  how."  No  man  can  explain  the 
growth  of  a  grain  of  wheat.  He  may  talk  learnedly  of 
many  things  connected  with  it,  and  may  give  them 
long,  hard,  and  almost  un})ronounceable  names  ;  but  in 
the  end,  all  his  discourse  leads  virtually  up  to  this :  that 
God  hath  so  fitted  the  seed  to  the  soil,  and  the  soil  to 
the  seed,  that,  when  a  corn  of  wheat  falls  into  the  earth, 
it  springeth  up.  The  husbandman  can  do  many  things 
to  the  soil.  He  can  plough  and  harrow  it;  he  can 
enrich  it  with  the  addition  of  fertilizing  substances ;  he 
can  prepare  it  for  the  reception  of  the  seed.  He  can 
also  choose  the  quality  of  the  seed ;  and,  after  it  has 
sprung  up,  he  can  remove  obstructions  to  its  growth 
that  may  have  appeared  in  the  shape  of  weeds.  But 
he  cannot  make  the  seed  to  grow.  It  is  not  in  his 
power  to  command  at  the  right  time  the  heat  of  the 
sun  or  the  moisture  of  the  clouds.  He  cannot  order 
the  process  of  germination.  God  has  kept  that  in  his 
own  hands ;  and  the  farmer  very  wisely  leaves  it  with 
him,  "  and  sleeps  and  rises,  night  and  day,"  letting  God 
work  for  him. 

Now,  it  is  not  otherwise  in  spiritual  matters.  The 
sower  of  truth  cannot  make  it  grow  in  the  human  heart, 
nor  can  he  exjjlain  how  it  germinates  there.  He  can 
only  say  that  God  hath  so  constituted  the  soul,  that, 


202  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

when  truth  is  received  by  it,  it  cannot  lie  dormant 
there,  but  must  spring  up  and  produce  its  appropriate 
effects.  He  may  choose  the  kind  of  seed  he  shall  em- 
ploy. He  may  vary  his  methods  of  instruction  to  suit 
the  varied  capacities  of  those  whom  he  seeks  at  differ- 
ent times  to  teach ;  and  as  the  truth  is  springing  up, 
he  may  be  instrumental  in  removing  error  from  associa- 
tion with  it.  But  he  cannot  make  it  groio :  the  power  to 
do  that  belongs  to  the  Spirit  of  God  alone.  No  man 
can  command  those  spiritual  influences  which  he  has 
kept  in  his  own  hand.  He  worketh  where,  when,  and 
how  he  pleaseth.  We  may  pray  for  his  baptism,  but 
we  cannot  command  it;  and  it  was  only  impious  pre- 
sumption which  induced  the  leaders  of  the  Salvation 
Army,  a  year  or  two  ago  in  England,  to  put  down  in 
the  programme  of  one  of  their  protracted  meetings,  for 
a  certain  day,  at  a  certain  hour,  "  Descent  of  the  Holy 
Ghost." 

Neither  can  we  call  at  will  those  providential  dispen- 
sations, which,  in  The  culture  of  the  heart,  correspond 
to  the  changes  of  the  weather  in  the  growth  of  the 
crops.  We  cannot  bring  upon  each  other  affliction  or 
health,  adversity  or  prosperity,  sorrow  or  joy,  bereave- 
ment or  blessing,  by  the  agency  of  which  the  growth 
of  a  lioly  character  is  so  furthered  in  some  men,  and  by 
the  absence  of  which  it  is  so  hindered  in  others.  All 
these  things  are  out  of  our  power.  They  are  beyond 
our  control.  They  come,  we  know  not  how.  They  are 
arranged  by  God  according  to  his  wisdom  ;  and  as  the 
pious  husbandman,  when  he  has  sown  his  seed,  leaves 
all  the  rest  with  God,  so,  after  we  have  scattered  the 
good  seed  of  the  Word,  we  ought  to  look  up  in  faith 
and  prayer  to  the  Lord  of  the  harvest,  and  wait 
patiently  for  the   result.     As   the  Apostle    James   has 


THE  GROWTH  OF  THE  SEED.  203 

said,  "  Behold,  the  husbandman  waiteth  for  the  precious 
fruit  of  the  earth,  and  hath  long  patience  for  it,  until 
he  receive  the  early  and  the  latter  rain.  Be  ye  also 
patient ;  stablish  your  hearts,  for  the  coming  of  the 
Lord  draweth  nigh."  ^  Neither  ought  we  to  allow 
the  mystery  which  shrouds  the  mode  of  the  Divine  opera- 
tions to  keep  us  from  availing  ourselves  of  their  benefits. 
Men  do  not  wait  to  understand  every  thing  about 
meteorology  before  they  take  advantage  of  the  winds 
to  propel  their  ships,  and  we  ought  not  to  let  the 
unfathomableness  of  the  mystery  of  the  mode  of  the 
working  of  God's  Spirit  in  the  human  heart  keep  us 
from  availing  ourselves  of  his  gracious  agency.  It  is  a 
problem  not  yet  solved,  how  the  light  and  heat  of  the 
sun  are  maintained;  but  we  do  not  on  that  account 
refuse  to  accept  these  blessings,  and  utilize  them.  Let 
the  same  common-sense  characterize  our  proceedings  in 
spiritual  things ;  and  the  man  who  proclaims  the  truth 
will  leave  God  to  take  care  of  its  growth,  while  he  who 
hears  it  and  receives  it  will  humbly  and  gratefully 
rejoice  in  its  peace. 

But  emphasis  is  put  hi  this  parable,  also,  on  the 
gradualness  of  the  growth  of  the  seed.  The  processes 
of  nature  are  for  the  most  part  gradual ;  so  much  so, 
indeed,  that  at  any  one  point  you  can  scarcel}^  detect 
that  there  is  a  difference  from  that  which  immediately 
preceded.  Thus,  if  one  were  to  lie  down  day  by  day 
beside  a  field  of  growing  grain,  he  would  not  be  able  to 
mark  distinctly  the  progress  made  in  any  one  particu- 
lar hour.  I  question,  indeed,  if  in  such  circumstances 
he  •  would  be  able  to  tell  when  precisely  the  blade 
began  to  pass  into  the  ear,  or  when  the  first  yellow 
tinge  began  to  make  its  appearance,  and  the  ear  began 

1  Jas.  V.  7,  8. 


204  THE  PABABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

to  fill.  The  fact  that  there  has  been  progress  is  appar- 
ent, but  the  growth  itself  has  been  so  gradual  as  to  be 
almost  imperceptible.  There  are  times,  indeed,  when 
there  seems  to  be  a  great  start  taken.  These  are  the 
fine  "  growing  days  "  of  which  the  farmer  speaks,  when, 
after  refreshing  rain,  there  comes  genial  warmth,  and 
one  thinks  he  can  almost  see  the  stalks  pushing  them- 
selves up.  But,  generally  speaking,  the  growth  from 
day  to  day  is  all  but  imperceptible. 

Now,  it  is  so  also  with  the  growth  of  a  holy  character 
in  a  man,  from  the  up-springing  of  the  good  seed  of  the 
word  in  his  heart.  There  are  times,  indeed,  when  it 
appears  as  if  a  great  start  were  taken,  and  it  develops 
more  rapidly  than  at  others.  Such,  for  example,  are 
seasons  of  trial  and  affliction,  when,  after  the  tears  of 
genuine  repentance,  there  comes  the  warmth  of  deep, 
fervent  love  to  Christ.  Oh,  these  are  "  growing  days  " 
indeed,  and  those  who  have  passed  through  them  can 
bear  testimony  to  this  fact.  But  commonly  the  growth 
from  day  to  day  is  all  but  imperceptible,  like  that  of 
the  child  at  your  feet  who  seems  no  bigger  to-day  than 
he  was  yesterday,  and  will  appear  no  bigger  to-morrow 
than  he  is  to-day.  "  The  path  of  the  just  is  as  the  shin- 
ing light,  that  shineth  more  and  more  unto  the  perfect 
day."  There  is  progress,  but  it  is  not  always  easy  to 
trace  it  from  one  day  to  another.  By  little  and  little, 
even  as  one  color  shades  into  another,  a  man  becomes 
aggravated  in  sin ;  and  by  little  and  little,  even  as  the 
tide  advances  on  the  shore,  one  becomes  eminent  in 
holiness.  That  is  not  a  plant  which  springs  up  in  a 
man  like  the  prophet's  gourd  in  a  single  night.  One 
does  not  vault  into  it  by  a  single  bound,  but  he  grows 
into  it  through  faith  and  prayer  and  obedience  and 
patience ;    yet,    though    the    daily   advances    may   be 


TUB  GROWTH  OF  THE   SEED.  205 

hardly  discernible,  the   great  out-standing  stages  are 
well  defined. 

This  brings  me  to  the  third  thing  emphasized  in  this 
parable ;  namely,  that,  in  the  up-springing  of  the  good 
seed  into  Christian  character,  there  are  distinct  stages 
of  development,  —  "  first  the  blade,  then  the  ear,  then 
the  full  corn  in  the  ear."  In  growth,  there  are  easily  rec- 
ognizable landmarks,  like  the  landing-places  in  a  stair, 
which  are  perfectly  distinguishable  from  what  goes 
before  and  from  what  follows.  Thus,  in  the  fruit-tree 
we  have  the  bud,  the  blossom,  and  the  fruit ;  and  in 
human  life  we  have  infancy,  childhood,  youth,  and 
manhood.  We  may  not  be  able  to  discover  just  when 
the  one  of  these  passes  into  the  other,  but  we  can  rec- 
ognize each  when  we  see  it.  Just  so,  in  the  Christian 
character,  we  have  different  stages  indicated  b}^  differ- 
ent marks.  One  who  has  had  any  large  experience  in 
dealing  with  the  disciples  of  Christ  will  ordinarily 
have  no  great  difficulty  in  deciding  whether  a  man  be 
a  recent  convert,  or  a  Christian  of  some  standing,  or  a 
venerable  and  (as  the  old-fasliioned  phrase  used  to  be) 
"well-exercised"  believer.  In  the  first  you  will  com- 
monly find  zeal  predominant ;  in  the  second,  a  certain 
censoriousness  which  is  the  shadow  of  knowledge;  and 
in  the  third,  humility  and  love.  In  the  first  you  will 
have  a  dash  of  intolerance ;  in  the  second,  a  little  cyni- 
cism ;  and  in  the  third,  a  broad  and  wide-embracing 
charity.  Courage  comes  ordinarily  before  knowledge, 
and  knowledge  before  patience  ;  while  love  comes  to  its 
maturity  only  in  the  ripened  saint.  Every  one  who 
has  attended  to  the  training  of  his  own  children  knows 
that  there  are  certain  faults,  or  tendencies,  or  crude- 
ncsses,  which  seem  to  belong  to  particular  ages. 
Those  special  ages,  indeed,  have  brought  with  them 


206  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

some  great  acquirements  that  are  valuable ;  but  along 
with  these  there  appear,  almost  with  the  certainty  of 
a  law,  certain  characteristics  which  often  give  a  parent 
trouble.  With  his  first-born,  he  is  especially  at  a  loss. 
But  as  other  children  come  into  the  home,  he  has  grown 
accustomed  to  the  phenomena ;  for  now  the  eldest  has 
left  all  such  things  behind,  and  therefore  he  "winks 
at "  them  in  the  younger  ones,  and  waits  patiently  until 
they,  too,  have  outgrown  them.  Now,  it  is  just  similar 
in  the  Christian  life.  The  new  convert,  when  we  meet 
such  a  one  for  the  first  time,  is  aj^t  to  be  a  little  try- 
ing to  us.  He  is  all  fire,  and  sometimes  he  scorches 
us  with  his  flame.  The  older  Christian,  too,  who  is 
in  the  stage  of  the  bud,  or  the  unripe  fruit,  is  apt  to 
be  troublesome  Avith  his  acrid  humors  ;  but  these  are 
just  the  qualities  attendant  on  the  degree  of  growth 
at  which  he  has  arrived.  Kightly  looked  at,  they  are 
the  evidences  of  a  new  period  of  development ;  and 
the  best  thing  we  can  do  with  them  is  to  let  them 
alone,  and  wait  in  patient  love  until  our  friends  have 
grown  out  of  them.  We  need  not  look  for  the  ear 
before  the  blade,  nor  for  the  full  ripened  ear  when  it  is 
time  only  for  the  appearance  of  the  ear.  But  we  are  to 
be  satisfied  when  we  have  the  evidence  of  growth  in 
the  presence  of  such  things  as  indicate  that  a  new  stage 
has  been  reached. 

III.  Now,  if  this  be,  as  I  believe  it  is,  the  true  inter- 
pretation of  this  parable,  we  are  in  a  position  to  get 
from  it  the  lessons  for  our  own  practical  life,  which  it 
so  suggestively  teaches.  And  among  these,  I  place 
first  the  important  truth,  that  all  who  are  in  any  way 
engaged  in  sowing  the  good  seed  of  the  word  of  God 
should  accompany  their  work  with  prayer.     The  sow- 


THE  GROWTH  OF  THE  SEED.  207 

ing  is  our  part :  the  making  of  the  seed  to  grow  is 
GodV.  Remember  what  Paul  has  said :  "  I  have  plant- 
ed, Apollos  watered ;  but  God  gave  the  increase.  So 
then  neither  is  he  that  planteth  any  thing,  neither  he 
that  watereth,  but  God  that  giveth  the  increase."^  This 
may  teach  us  humility,  but  it  will  also  lead  us  to  entire 
dependence  upon  God.  Whether,  therefore,  we  be 
parents,  or  teachers,  or  preachers,  let  us  accompany 
our  sowing  with  prayer,  that  God  may  keep  us  from 
laboring  in  vain,  and  crown  our  efforts  with  an  abun- 
dant harvest. 

But,  as  a  second  lesson  from  this  parable,  I  urge  that 
we  should  not  look  for  ripeness  before  it  is  due. 
GroAvth  takes  time,  and  it  follows  its  own  laws.  We 
ought  not,  therefore,  to  look  for  certain  qualities  of 
character  too  soon,  or  out  of  their  due  and  proper 
course.  You  cannot  have  the  ear  before  the  blade,  nor 
the  ripe  harvest  just  when  the  ear  appears.  You  must 
not  expect  the  boy  to  be  as  sedate  and  solid  as  the  man, 
neither  should  you  look  in  the  young  convert  for  those 
qualities  of  character  which  can  come  only  as  the 
results  of  long  experience.  Many  parents  do  great  in- 
jury to  their  children,  by  expecting  certain  excellences 
in  them  too  soon.  I  always  pity  the  first-born  of  a 
family,  or  an  only  child,  just  on  that  account;  for  his 
seniors  are  not  willing  to  let  him  be  long  enough  a 
child,  and  almost  always  forget  the  proverb  that  "you 
cannot  have  an  old  head  on  young  shoulders."  But 
I  fear  that  similar  injury  is  sometimes  inflicted,  in  a  sim- 
ilar way,  on  young  Christians.  Sufficient  allowance  is 
not  always  made  by  those  of  riper  experience,  for  the 
crudeness  and  immaturity  which  are  inseparable  from 
that  stage  of  development  at  which  they  have  arrived. 

1  1  Cor.  iii.  6,  7. 


208  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

Burns  once  complainingly  said  to  his  brother  Gilbert, 
"  Man,  3^ou're  no'  fur  young  folk  ; "  meaning,  thereby, 
that  he  did  not  sufficiently  understand  and  make  allow- 
ance for  the  peculiarities  of  youth.  And,  similarly,  there 
are  many  Christians  to  whom  it  may  be  said  that  they 
are  not  for  young  Christians.  We  must  not  insist 
upon  it,  that  they  should  be  in  every  respect  like  those 
who  have  been  long  in  Christ.  But  we  ought  to  mod- 
erate our  expectations,  and  be  content  to  wait  for  the 
growth  which  requires  time  for  its  development.  And 
this  rule  must  work  both  ways,  so  that  the  young 
Christian  is  not  to  judge  the  older  harshly  because  of 
his  apparent  lack  of  effervescing  emotion.  Let  us  be 
charitable  toward  each  other.  The  young  convert 
must  not  expect  that  the  aged  believer  is  to  be  like 
him,  any  more  than  the  aged  believer  is  to  insist  that 
the  young  convert  must  in  all  respects  resemble  him. 
The  blade  will  be  the  ripened  ear  by  and  by.  It  is  on 
the  way  thereto.  Give  it  time,  and  God  will  give  it 
ripeness. 

Finally,  let  all  Christian  workers  look  forward  with 
hopefulness  to  the  coming  harvest ;  for  there  is  nothing 
in  which  we  can  engage  that  will  yield  a  richer  increase 
than  the  sowing  of  the  good  seed  of  the  word  of  God. 
The  Lord  is  not  stinted  in  his  blessings.  We  sow  in 
single  grains,  we  reap  full  ears ;  we  sow  in  handfuls, 
we  reap  in  bosomfuls ;  we  sow  in  days  and  years,  we 
reap  eternity.  There  is  joy  in  sowing,  there  is  a  deeper 
joy  in  seeing  the  seed  springing  up  :  but  the  richest  joy 
of  all  is  that  of  harvest-home.  It  is  a  gla-dsome  thing 
to  preach  the  word  of  life,  even  though  sometimes  one 
may  preach  it  in  tears ;  there  is  a  yet  more  inspiriting 
joy  in  seeing  that  word  take  root  in  human  hearts,  and 
bring  forth  the  fruit  of  holy  living :  but  the  most  thrill- 


THE   GROWTH  OF  THE  SEED.  209 

ing  joy  of  all  is  that  of  the  heavenly  iiigathciinp^,  when 
the  servants  of  the  Lord  shall  come  to  him  with  rejoi- 
cing, "  bringing  their  sheaves  with  them."  My  hearer, 
shall  that  bliss  be  yours  ? 

Of  one  thing  we  may  be  sure  :  a  harvest  of  some  sort 
there  will  be,  for  we  all  are  sowing  now ;  and,  if  we  are 
sowing  the  wind,  we  shall  reap  at  length  the  whirlwuid. 
Either,  therefore,  our  ingathering  shall  be  of  blessing, 
or  it  shall  be  like  that  described  in  such  terrible  lan- 
guage by  the  prophet :  "  Because  thou  hast  forgotten 
the  God  of  thy  salvation,  and  hast  not  been  mindful 
of  the  rock  of  thy  strength,  therefore  shalt  thou  plant 
pleasant  places,  and  shalt  set  it  with  strange  slips.  In 
the  day  shalt  thou  make  thy  plant  to  grow,  and  in  the 
morning  shalt  thou  make  thy  seed  to  flourish ;  but  the 
harvest  shall  be  a  heap  in  the  day  of  grief  and  of  des- 
perate sorrow."^  There  are  but  the  two  alternatives.. 
"Be  not  deceived:  God  is  not  mocked;  for  whatsoever 
a  man  soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap.  He  that  soweth 
to  the  flesh  shall  of  the  flesh  reap  corruption  ;  but  he 
that  soweth  to  the  Spirit  shall  of  the  Spirit  reap  life 
everlasting."  ^ 

May  God  help  us  to  lay  these  truths  to  heart. 

i  Isa.  xvii.  9,  10.  a  Gal.  vi.  7,  8. 


210  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR. 


XIV. 

THE    TWO    DEBTORS. 

(Luke  vii.  3 6-50 J 

The  parable  to  which  we  have  now  come  is  so  insep- 
arable from  the  history  in  which  it  is  embeclded,  that 
we  can  rightly  interpret  it  only  by  entering  fully  into 
the  details  of  that.  But  we  need  not  regret  this  neces- 
sity, for  the  story  is  one  of  the  most  touching  which 
even  the  word  of  God  contains ;  and  we  shall  all  be 
the  better  for  coming  once  again  into  contact  with  "the 
heart  of  Christ,"  as  it  is  here  revealed.  The  expositor's 
only  anxiety  is,  lest,  by  his  handling  of  that  which  is 
so  exquisite,  he  should  leave  the  mark  of  his  defiling 
touch  upon  its  loveliness, — lest,  by  his  very  effort  to 
explain  its  meaning,  he  should  weaken  the  force  of  that 
which  is  in  itself  so  effective.  Still,  even  with  such 
risks  before  him,  it  is  important  that  he  should  carry 
on  his  work ;  for  here,  too,  there  are  subtile  suggestions 
and  profound  lessons  which  yield  themselves  only  to 
patient  investigation. 

The  Lord  had  been  invited  to  eat  with  one  of  the 
Pharisees,  and  had  accepted  the  invitation.  There  is 
nothing  in  the  narrative  of  Luke,  —  who  alone  records 
the  incidents,  —  by  which  we  are  able  to  identify  either 
the  place  in  which  this  Pharisee  resided,  or  the  date  at 
which  this  feast  was  given  by  him  to  Jesus.  Neither 
can  we  recognize  in  the  principal  characters  to  whom 


THE  TWO  DEBTORS.  211 

we  are  here  introduced,  any  one  whom  we  meet  with 
elsewhere  in  the  Gospels.  The  Simon  of  this  feast  could 
not  be  the  Simon  of  Bethany,  and  the  woman  of  this 
anointing  could  not  be  Mary  the  sister  of  Lazarus. 
Only  the  most  wilful  and  irrational  determination  to 
make  a  contradiction  where  there  is  really  none  could 
induce  any  one  to  persist  in  the  assertion  that  the  ban- 
quet here  described  is  the  same  as  that  of  which  we 
have  an  account  in  the  twelfth  chapter  of  the  Gospel 
by  John. 

Neither  is  there  any  —  the  least  —  warrant  for  the 
idea  that  the  woman  of  this  history  was  Mary  Magdalene. 
She  is  one  of  the  unnamed  females  in  these  inspired 
histories ;  and  we  are  in  full  accord  with  Bishop  Hall, 
when  he  writes  thus  regarding  this  matter:^  — 

"  I  hear  no  name  of  either  the  city  or  the  woman  : 
she  was  too  well  known  in  her  time.  How  much  better 
is  it  to  be  obscure  than  infamous  !  Herein  I  doubt  not 
God  meant  to  spare  the  reputation  of  a  penitent  con- 
vert. He  who  hates  not  the  person,  but  the  sin,  cares 
oidy  to  mention  the  sin,  not  the  person.  It  is  justice  to 
prosecute  the  vice :  it  is  mercy  to  spare  the  offender. 
How  injurious  a  presumption  is  it  for  any  man  to  name 
her  whom  God  would  have  concealed,  and  to  cast  this 
aspersion  on  those  whom  God  hath  noted  for  holiness ! " 

But  now,  how  came  Simon  to  invite  Jesus  to  his 
house  ?  He  was  a  Pharisee,  and  as  such  belonged  to 
that  section  of  the  Jews  who  were  at  this  juncture 
beginning  to  show  open  antagonism  to  the  Lord.  All 
the  Pharisees,  however,  were  not  equally  bad.  We 
cannot  forget  that  Nicodemus  was  one  of  them ;  and 
this  man,  though  he  had  not  got  so  far  as  Nicodemus 
was  when  he  recognized  in  Jesus  a  teacher  sent  from 

1  Coutcin|)lalions,  p|).  520,  530. 


212  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

heaven,  had  yet  a  certain  respect  for  him  as  a  rabbi,  or 
religious  instructor.  He  was  interested  in  him,  and 
thought  it  possible  that  he  might  be  a  prophet ;  but  he 
had  not  yet  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  he  was. 
There  was,  therefore,  beneath  this  invitation  of  the 
Lord  at  this  time  to  his  house,  a  wish  to  scrutinize  him 
more  closely,  and  so  to  obtain  the  means  of  coming  to 
some  definite  decision  regarding  him.  Hence,  while  he 
was  glad  enough  to  receive  him,  he  did  not  show  him 
any  great  honor.  In  fact,  he  disjDensed  with  even  the 
usual  courtesies  offered  by  a  host  to  his  guest,  and 
treated  the  Saviour  with  a  patronizing  air,  which 
seemed  to  say  that  it  was  distinction  enough  for  Jesus 
to  be  at  his  table,  and  that  he  had  no  right  to  expect 
any  further  civilities.  He  had  heard  him,  and  had 
thereby  had  his  curiosity  aroused  to  find  out  more 
about  him  ;  and  so,  as  the  best  means  of  gratifying 
that,  he  asked  him  to  dinner.  But  that  was  all.  If 
there  was  any  favor  in  the  case,  his  view  of  the  matter 
was,  that  it  was  he  that  conferred  it  by  giving  the 
invitation,  and  not  Jesus  by  accepting  it. 

And  how  came  the  Lord  to  accept  of  such  an  invita- 
tion? Simply  out  of  his  great  grace.  He  held  himself 
aloof  from  no  class  of  men.  Now  we  find  him  the  guest 
of  Levi  the  publican,  and  again  that  of  a  Pharisee  like 
Simon  ;  but  all  the  time  he  was  the  friend  of  sinners.  It 
was  part  of  his  plan  to  accept  hospitality  wherever  it  was 
proffered  to  him,  in  order  that  he  might  thereby  reach 
all  classes  and  conditions  of  men.  Therefore  he  did 
not  decline  the  request  of  Simon,  but  went  to  his  house, 
just,  indeed,  as  he  came  to  earth  itself,  "  to  seek  and  to 
save  that  which  was  lost." 

But  now  the  guests  are  in  their  places,  not  sitting 
cross-legged  on  the   floor,  like    modern  Orientals,  nor 


THE   TWO  DEBTOIiS.  213 

seated  on  chairs,  as  with  ourselves ;  but  reclining,  after 
the  old  Roman  fashion,  on  couches,  the  head  being 
toward  the  table,  and  the  feet,  unsandalled,  stretched 
out  behind,  while  the  body  rested  on  the  left  side  and 
elbow.  Around  the  walls  of  the  room  sit  some  of  the 
inhabitants  of  the  place,  who  have  heard  of  the  feast, 
and  who  have  come  in  to  see  the  banquet  and  to  listen 
to  the  conversation.  For  on  such  occasions  there  is, 
even  at  this  day,  in  Eastern  society,  much  more  latitude 
allowed  than  there  is  with  us.  Thus  in  one  of  the  ear- 
liest, and  still  one  of  the  best,  of  the  books  of  Eastern 
travel,  being  the  report  of  the  party  of  which  Andrew 
Bonar  and  Robert  McCheyne  were  members,  we  find 
the  following  statement:  "At  dinner  at  the  consul's 
house  at  Damietta,  we  were  much  interested  in  observ- 
ing a  custom  of  the  country.  In  the  room  where  we 
were  received,  besides  the  divan  on  which  we  sat,  there 
were  seats  all  round  the  walls.  INIan}^  came  in,  and  took 
their  places  on  these  side  seats,  uninvited  and  yet 
unchallenged.  They  spoke  to  those  at  table,  on  busi- 
ness, or  the  news  of  the  day ;  and  our  host  S2)oke  freely 
to  tliem."  It  is  added,  that  they  found  the  same  cus- 
tom in  existence  in  Jerusalem.  So,  in  the  case  before 
us,  the  seats  at  the  sides  of  the  room  were  occupied  by 
spectators,  who  had  come  in  to  be  present  at,  though 
not  to  be  partakers  of,  the  feast.  Among  these  was  a 
woman  of  the  city,  a  poor  waif,  who  had  been  living  on 
the  wages  of  iniquity,  and  who  bore  upon  her  counte- 
nance the  signs  of  her  depravity.  In  a  small  town, 
everybody  knows  all  about  everybody  else ;  and  so 
her  appearance  and  reputation  were  familiar  to  all  in 
the  apartment.  We  may  suppose,  therefore,  that  her 
entrance  caused  some  little  flutter  of  sensation.  IJut 
when,  in  a  paroxysm   of   uncontrollable   emotion,  she 


214  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

stood  "  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,"  and  "  began  to  wash  them 
with  her  tears,  and  did  wipe  them  with  the  hairs  of  her 
head,  and  kissed  his  feet,  and  anointed  them "  with 
ointment  taken  from  an  alabaster  vase,  we  may  be  sure 
that  her  actions  took  the  whole  party  by  surprise. 
Indeed,  they  were  properly  understood  only  by  the 
Lord  himself:  and  they  were  so,  first,  because  it  is  only 
love  that  can  interpret  love ;  and,  second,  because  Jesus 
alone  was  acquainted  with  the  unrecorded  history  which 
lay  between  her  sinful  life  and  her  so  singular  behavior 
at  this  banquet.  It  is  only  love  that  can  interpret  love  ; 
and  therefore  that  which  seems  unusual  and  extravagant 
to  on-lookers  is,  between  lovers  themselves,  onl}^  the 
ordinary  language  of  affection.  So  it  came,  that  Judas 
said,  regarding  the  offering  of  Mary,  "  To  what  purpose 
is  this  waste  ?  "  and  so,  in  the  every  way  similar  instance 
of  this  woman,  the  unloving  Simon  viewed  her  conduct 
with  displeasure.  But  Jesus  knew  better.  His  own 
love,  which  found  its  unusual  expression  in  the  cross, 
was  at  no  loss  to  comprehend  the  meaning  of  this  impas- 
sioned and  devoted  penitent. 

Besides,  as  I  have  said,  there  was  an  unrecorded 
history  lying  behind  this  manifestation.  For  the  two 
must  have  met  before.  This  was  not  the  first  time 
she  had  seen  the  Lord.  Already  she  had  heard  his 
words,  and  been  brought  to  her  true  self  by  their 
gracious  influence.  Perhaps  she  had  been  in  the  crowd 
when,  but  a  short  while  before,  he  had  given  that 
loving  invitation,  "  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor 
and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest.  Take 
my  yoke  upon  3'ou,  and  learn  of  me,  for  I  am  meek 
and  lowly  in  heart ;  and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto  your 
souls.  For  my  yoke  is  easy,  and  my  burden  is  light," 
—  words  which  we  cannot  read  without   the   deepest 


THE   TWO  DEBTORS.  215 

emotion,  but  which,  as  they  came  from  him,  must 
have  made  their  way  straight  to  her  heart.  In  any 
case,  on  some  previous  occasion,  virtue  had  gone  out  of 
liim  to  her,  and  had  awakened  new  hope  within  her. 
She  saw  the  i)ossibility  of  being  forgiven,  even  for  her 
life  of  sin.  She  felt  uprising  within  her  the  determina- 
tion to  become  a  pure  and  noble  woman.  Nay,  she 
liad  the  persuasion  that  she  was  already  pardoned  and 
accepted  hy  God ;  antl  so,  unmoved  by  all  surrounding 
discouragements,  conscious  of  nothing  but  that  He  was 
there  to  whom  she  owed  her  new-born  blessedness,  she 
eagerly  threw  herself  upon  his  feet,  and  took  this 
method  of  telling  him  "  all  that  was  in  her  heart."  She 
came  thus  to  him,  not  as  a  penitent  seeking  pardon,  but 
as  a  sinner  already  forgiven  ;  and  so  that  which  looked 
like  extravagance  to  others  was  perfectly  natural  in  her, 
and  thorougldy  acceptable  to  him.  It  was  but  "  the 
return  and  repercussion  "  in  her  of  that  love  which  he 
had  already  shown  to  her.  Her  tears  were,  as  Luther 
calls  them,  "heart-water;"  they  were  the  distillation  of 
her  gratitude.  She  had  not  come,  indeed,  to  weep:  she 
had  come  designing  to  use  the  ointment  only.  But  her 
tears  had,  as  it  were,  stolen  a  march  upon  her :  they 
had  come  unbidden  and  unexpected,  and  had  rather 
interfered  with  the  fuUilmcnt  of  her  purpose.  But  in 
order  that  her  original  intention  miglit  be  thoroughly 
carried  out,  she  wiped  them  from  his  feet  with  her  flow- 
ing tresses,  and  then  poured  over  him  the  precious 
ointment,  whose  odor  filled  the  house. 

But  Simon  did  not  comprehend  her  in  the  least.  He 
looked  on  in  amazement,  not  unmingled  with  disgust. 
He  knew  the  reputation  of  the  woman ;  but  he  knew 
nothing  whatever  of  tlie  change  which  had  been  wrouglit 
upon  her,  and  he  was  surprised  at  the  manner  in  which 


216  THE  P ARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

Jesus  received  her  attentions.  Nor  let  us  judge  him 
too  harshly ;  for  there  is  something  to  be  said  for  him, 
after  all.  He  had  a  regard  for  morality ;  he  would  not 
have  spoken  to  such  a  character  as  he  conceived  this 
woman  to  be.  But  the  misfortune  was,  that  he  judged 
entirely  by  appearances.  He  condemned  her  before  he 
had  possession  of  all  the  evidence.  He  knew  that  she 
had  been  a  sinner,  but  he  did  not  know  that  she  was  now 
a  forgiven  penitent.  And,  erring  thus  regarding  the 
woman.,  he  erred  also  of  necessity  regarding  Christ ;  for 
he  said  within  himself,  "  This  man,  if  he  were  a  prophet, 
would  have  known  what  manner  of  woman  this  is  that 
toucheth  him  ;  for  she  is  a  sinner."  He  had  desired  to 
convince  himself  whether  Jesus  was  a  prophet  or  not, 
and  now  he  had  found  it  out !  He  argued  it  out  within 
himself  after  this  fashion:  "A  prophet  is  a  discerner  of 
spirits,  and  a  holy  man  ;  now,  if  this  man  is  a  discerner 
of  spirits,  he  must  know  the  unholiness  of  this  woman, 
and,  as  being  himself  holy,  he  would  not  let  her  touch 
him  as  he  now  does ;  or  if,  knowing  her  character,  he 
allows  her  thus  to  approach  him,  he  must  be  himself 
unholy :  and  in  either  case  he  can  be  no  prophet."  But 
he  spoke  no  word.  All  this  was  merely  the  thought  of 
his  heart.  And  he  was  shaken  out  of  it  by  the  excla- 
mation of  the  Lord,  who  showed  him  that  he  was  a 
discerner  of  spirits  after  all,  by  answering  the  argument 
which  he  had  not  himself  ventured  to  utter.  "  Simon  !  " 
exclaimed  he,  "  I  have  somewhat  to  say  unto  thee." 
And  he  said,  "  Master,  say  on."  Then  came  the  para- 
ble :  "  There  was  a  certain  creditor  which  had  two  debt- 
ors ;  the  one  owed  five  hundred  pence,  and  the  other 
fifty.  And  when  they  had  nothing  to  pay,  he  frankly 
forgave  them  both.  Tell  me,  therefore,  which  of  them 
will  love  him  most."     Simon  answered  either  in  a  kind 


THE   TWO   DEBTORS.  217 

of  supercilious  tone,  as  if  lie  thought  the  question  of  no 
importance ;  or  in  a  constrained  manner,  as  if  he  felt 
that  something  was  to  be  made  out  of  his  reply  to  his 
own  disadvantage :  "  I  suppose,  that  he  to  whom  he 
forgave  most."  And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  "  Thou  hast 
rightly  judged." 

Now,  the  history  over  which  we  have  come  has  fur- 
nished the  key  to  the  interpretation.  The  creditor  is 
Christ,  the  two  debtors  are  Simon  and  the  woman. 
The  debts  are  different,  perhaps,  objectively,  in  the 
magnitude  of  the  sins  of  each,  but  rather,  perhaps,  sub- 
jectively, in  the  depth  of  the  conviction  of  each.  Both 
alike,  however,  are  hopelessly  bankrupt ;  and  to  both 
alike  frank  forgiveness  is  offered.  Now,  presuming 
in  both  cases  that  the  forgiveness  is  accepted,  Simon 
was  right  in  answering  that  he  to  whom  he  forgave 
most  will  love  him  most.  It  follows,  therefore,  that  the 
love  which  this  woman  manifested  in  such  an  unusual 
way  was  the  consequence  of  her  acceptance  of  forgive- 
ness for  unusual  sin.  She  had  been  a  great  sinner,  but 
she  was  now  a  forgiven  sinner ;  and  the  fact  that  she 
had  been  forgiven  so  much  was  the  explanation  of  that 
demonstration  of  her  affection  which  had  so  scandalized 
Simon. 

But  if  the  acceptance  of  pardon  by  her  is  the  expla- 
nation of  her  warmth,  where  shall  we  find  that  of  the 
coldness  of  Simon  ?  Plainly,  in  this :  that  he  had  not 
accei)ted  forgiveness,  even  for  the  fifty  pence  whicli  lie 
owed.  That  was  the  inference  which  the  Lord  designed 
liis  host  to  draw.  But,  as  he  seemed  either  unable  or 
unwilling  to  draw  it  for  himself,  the  Lord  did  it  for  him 
in  an  indirect  but  yet  most  forcible  manner.  Turning 
to  the  woman,  he  said  to  Simon,  "Thou  seest  this  woman. 
1  entered  into  thine  house,  thou  gavest  me  no  water  for 


218  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

my  feet ;  but  she  hath  washed  my  feet  with  tears,  and 
wiped  them  with  the  hairs  of  her  head.  Thou  gavest 
me  no  kiss ;  but  this  woman,  since  the  time  I  came  in, 
hath  not  ceased  to  kiss  my  feet.  My  head  with  oil 
thou  didst  not  anoint,  but  this  woman  hath  anointed 
my  feet  with  ointment."  What,  then,  — this  is  the  sug- 
gested application,  —  is  the  inference  from  all  this  in 
the  light  of  your  answer  to  my  question  ?  Clearly,  that 
she  has  been  forgiven  much,  and  that  thou  hast  not 
been  forgiven  at  all.  Her  love  is  the  result  of  Her 
acceptance  of  forgiveness ;  and  because  she  has  been  for- 
given much,  it  is  that  she  loves  so  much:  but  your  in- 
difference is  an  evidence  that  you  have  not  yet  accepted 
pardon,  even  for  the  smaller  sins  which  you  acknowledge 
you  have  committed.  "  Wherefore  I  say  unto  you,  Her 
sins  are  forgiven."  You  can  see  that  from  her  love ; 
and  they  nnist  have  been  "  many  "  sins,  "  for  she  loveth 
much."  "  But  to  whom  little  is  forgiven,  the  same 
loveth  little." 

Such  is  clearly  the  meaning  of  the  parable  in  its 
application  to  Simon  and  the  woman ;  and,  thus  under- 
stood, we  perceive  at  once  that  all  the  controversy 
which  has  been  waged  over  it,  as  to  the  ground  of  for- 
giveness, is  irrelevant.  For  the  woman's  love  was  the 
result  and  evidence  of  her  having  been  forgiven,  not  the 
reason  why  she  was  forgiven.  And  so,  when  the  Lord 
adds,  turning  to  the  woman  the  while,  "  Thy  sins  are 
forgiven,  go  into  peace,"  he  is  not  giving  her  then  pardon 
for  the  first  time,  but  rather  formally  expressing  with 
absolute  certainty,  that  of  which  already  she  had  had 
the  inward  assurance.  We  may  illustrate  this  from  the 
case  of  her  who  was  afflicted  with  the  issue  of  blood. 
You  remember  how  she  came    behind   the   Lord,  and 


THE   TWO  DEBTORS.  219 

touched  him,  saj'ing  withm  herself,  "•  If  I  may  but  touch 
his  clothes,  I  shall  be  whole ; "  and  straightway  she  felt 
in  her  body  that  she  was  whole  of  her  plague :  that 
corresponds  to  the  first  coming  of  this  woman  to  Jesus, 
when  she  knew  in  herself  that  she  was  forgiven.  After- 
ward, when  she  who  had  been  cured  heard  him  asking, 
"  Who  touched  me  ?  "  she  came  forward,  and  told  him 
all  that  was  in  her  heart:  that  corresponds  to  this 
woman's  approach  to  Jesus  here  in  the  banquet-hall. 
Finally,  when  Jesus  said  to  the  woman  whom  he  had 
alread}-  liealed,  "  Daughter,  thy  faith  hath  made  thee 
whole :  go  in  peace,  and  be  whole  of  thy  plague,"  that 
corresponds  to  his  expression  here,  "Thy  sins  are  for- 
given [or,  more  literally,  "  have  been  forgiven  "]  thee, 
go  into  peace."  The  forgiveness  in  the  latter  case,  like 
the  cure  in  the  former,  had  been  already  given  and  re- 
ceived ;  but  assurance  was  made  doubly  sure  by  the 
formal  expression  at  the  end  of  the  interview.  With 
a  glad  heart,  therefore,  this  woman  must  have  left  the 
house  of  Simon.  But  the  guests,  seeing  the  plight  in 
which  their  host  was  left,  endeavored  to  shield  him  l)y 
raising  a  new  issue ;  for  they  said,  "  Who  is  this  that 
forgivcth  sins  also  ?  "  Their  device,  however,  did  not 
mar  the  graciousness  of  Christ ;  for  he  simply  met  it 
by  reiterating  to  the  woman  the  assurance  that  she  was 
freely  pardoned,  and  by  sending  her  away  "into  the 
peace  of  God,  which  passeth  all  understanding." 

Only  one  question  now  remains,  and  it  is  this :  Does 
not  the  teaching  of  the  Lord  here  encourage  sinners  to 
go  to  great  lengths  in  iniquity,  in  order  that  at  last, 
being  forgiven  much,  they  may  love  much?  Now,  as 
every  one  can  see,  that  is  but  another  form  of  the  ob- 
jection to  the  doctrines  of  grace,  as  such,  which  Paul 
thus  enunciates,  "  What  shall  we  say,  then  ?     Shall  we 


220  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

continue  in  sin  that  grace  may  abound?  "  and  we  may 
meet  it,  as  Paul  meets  it,  by  saying,  "  God  forbid !  " 
But  we  may  show  its  untenableness  in  another  way. 
The  aggravated  sinner  may  be  nearer  the  kingdom  than 
the  self-righteous  Pharisee.  Christ  told  his  hearers  once 
that  the  publicans  and  harlots  would  go  into  it  before 
them.  That  is  because  it  is  much  harder  to  part  with 
righteous  self  than  it  is  to  give  up  sinful  self.  Yet  that 
would  be  no  valid  reason  for  a  man's  giving  himself  up 
to  gross  iniquity ;  and  in  like  manner,  when  the  Lord 
says,  "•  to  whom  little  is  forgiven,  the  same  loveth  little," 
he  gives  no  countenance  to  those  who  would  sin  much 
in  order  to  be  forgiven  much.  Indeed,  there  is  an  in- 
consistency in  the  very  conception  ;  for,  how  could  one 
who  sincerely  desires  forgiveness  at  all  be  willing  to  go 
further  into  sin  ? 

But  perhaps  the  true  answer  to  the  question  is  to  be 
had  in  the  idea  at  which  I  have  already  dimly  hinted ; 
this,  namely,  that  the  debts  here  are  not  regarded  objec- 
tively in  the  magnitude 'of  the  sins,  but  subjectively  in 
the  conviction  of  the  sinner.  And  the  fact  that  an 
offering  almost  identical  with  that  brought  by  this 
woman  to  Jesus  was  made  also  by  Mary  of  Bethany 
seems  to  tell  in  favor  of  this  view  of  the  case.  The 
great  sinner  and  the  great  saint  touch  hands  in  the  act 
of  anointing  the  Lord. 

"  Man's  hasty  lip  would  both  reprove, — 
One  for  the  stain  of  too  much  sin, 
One  for  the  waste  of  too  much  love; 
But  both  availed  His  smile  to  win,"  — 

because  both  offered  sincerely.  The  one,  in  her  new- 
born religious  life,  sees  something  of  the  enormity  of 
her  sinful  career ;  the  other,  in  her  growth  in  holiness, 


THE   TWO   DEHTOnS.  221 

has  learned  to  discover  the  vileness  of  sin,  of  whatsoever 
sort :  and  so,  sisters  in  the  love  of  Jesus,  they,  as  it  were, 
meet  with  their  vases  of  ointment  in  his  presence,  both 
pardoned  and  both  forgiven.  There  are  aggravated  sin- 
ners who  have  no  deep  sense  of  sin,  and  there  are  great 
saints  who  regard  themselves  as  the  chief  of  sinners. 
The  measure  of  one's  gratitude  for  forgiveness  is  the 
conception  which  he  has  of  his  sin.  He  who  makes 
light  of  sin  will  make  liglit  also  of  salvation.  But  he 
who  has  a  profound  conviction  of  the  evil  of  sin  as  the 
abominable  thing  which  God  hates,  will  have  an  over- 
whelming sense  of  God's  love  in  granting  him  forgive- 
ness. The  deeper  our  apprehension  of  the  exceeding 
sinfulness  of  sin,  the  greater  will  be  our  love  to  Him 
who  gives  us  deliverance  from  it.  And  wliere  there 
is  that  sense  of  the  hatefulness  of  sin,  there  will  be  no 
disposition  to  go  deeper  into  it. 

I  conclude  with  one  or  two  inferences  from  this  whole 
sul)ject. 

1.  Let  sinners  of  every  name  and  degree  be  encour- 
aged by  this  narrative  to  go  at  once  to  Christ.  He  will 
in  no  wise  cast  them  out.  There  are  no  more  touching 
stories  in  the  Gospels  than  those  which  tell  how  Jesus 
dealt  with  the  most  degraded  class  of  sinners.  Recall 
his  conversation  with  the  woman  of  Samaria,  at  the  well 
of  Sychar.  Bring  up  before  you  once  again  that  scene 
in  the  temple,  when  the  scribes  and  Pharisees  dragged 
in  before  him  the  woman  who  had  been  taken  in  the 
very  act  of  sin.  Then  read  anew  this  narrative  which 
has  been  before  us  to-night,  and  say  if  the  prophecy 
regarding  him  was  not  true,  "  A  bruised  reed  shall  he 
not  break,  the  smoking  flax  shall  he  not  quench."  A 
bruised  reed  was  not  deemed  worthy  of  the  shepherd's 
trouble  when  he  was  piping  in  the  field ;   and  so  he 


222  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

flung  it  away,  and  got  another.  Smoking  flax  gives  an 
offensive  odor ;  and  rather  than  be  annoyed  with  it,  the 
houseAvife  will  take  it  out  of  the  lamp,  and  tread  upon 
it.  But  it  was  otherwise  with  Jesus.  That  which 
others  would  cast  away,  he  sought  to  retain,  and  turn 
to  good  account.  That  which  others  would  give  up  as 
hopeless,  he  would  not  abandon.  Though  a  man  might 
seem  to  be  as  good-for-nothing  as  a  bruised  reed,  he 
would  receive  him  and  restore  him.  Though  a  woman 
might  be  as  repulsive  as  smoking  flax,  and  the  world 
would  cast  her  out  of  society,  and  trample  on  her,  he 
would  deal  gently  with  her,  and  fan  the  spark  into  a 
flame  which  would  burn  brightly  for  the  illumination 
of  others.  Where  men  perceived  no  promise  of  success, 
and  would  have  been  tempted  to  give  up  the  individual 
as  hopeless,  he  would  labor  on  until  the  reed  which  had 
given  forth  a  note  jangled  and  out  of  tune  was  restored 
to  its  original  condition,  and  gave  its  own  quota  to  the 
harmony  of  Jehovah's  praise.  Oh,  what  hope  there  is 
even  for  the  most  degraded  sinner  here !  ''  This  man 
receiveth  sinners."  They  said  it  in  reproach,  but  it  is 
still  his  brightest  glory.  Whosoever  tliou  art,  then, 
and  whatsoever  be  thy  guilt,  make  application  unto 
him,  for  he  will  in  no  wise  cast  thee  out. 

2.  But,  as  a  second  inference  from  this  whole  subject, 
let  us  learn,  that,  if  we  would  be  successful  in  raising 
the  fallen,  and  reclaiming  the  abandoned,  we  must  be 
willing  to  "  touch "  them,  and  to  be  "  touched "  by 
them.  In  other  words,  we  must  come  into  warm,  lov- 
ing, personal  contact  with  them.  What  an  uplift  Christ 
gave  to  the  soul  of  this  poor  woman,  when  he,  the  pure 
and  holy,  let  her  thus  approach  him  I  And  this  was  his 
way  all  through  his  ministry.  When  he  would  heal  the 
leper,  he  did  not  stand  afar  off,  and  cry,  "  Keep  at  a 


THE   TWO  DEBTORS.  223 

distance  !  keep  at  a  distance,  for  thou  art  unclean." 
Nay,  but  he  did  a  new  thing  in  IsraeL  He  touched 
the  leper,  yet  was  he  not  himself  thereby  defiled  ;  for  the 
purity  within  not  only  repelled  the  pollution,  but  com- 
municated itself  to  the  poor  victim.  And  with  the 
healing  of  his  body,  what  a  thrill  would  vibrate  through 
the  leper's  soul,  as  he  said,  "  Here  is  one,  and  he  the 
noblest  of  them  all,  who  is  not  afraid  to  touch  me  " ! 
So  in  our  measure,  in  dealing  with  the  moral  lepers  of 
society,  we  must  touch  them  if  we  would  raise  them. 
In  that  historic  story  which  had  so  much  to  do  with 
awakening  the  conscience  of  this  country  to  the  sin  of 
slavery,  you  remember  that  Miss  Ophelia  could  do 
nothing  witli  the  little  colored  incorrigible  so  long  as 
she  shrank  from  her  touch  as  from  a  toad.  Contact  is 
needed  if  virtue  is  to  go  out  of  us.  When  the  Lord 
wished  to  save  the  human  race,  he  touched  it  by  taking 
on  him  our  nature,  without  our  nature's  pollution.  So 
we  must  take  the  nature  of  the  degraded,  without  its 
impurity,  if  we  would  help  him.  We  must  stoop  to 
take  him  by  the  hand,  or  to  let  him  grasp  our  hand,  if 
we  would  lift  him  up.  Those  who  are  the  greatest  ele- 
vators of  their  fellows  are  not  the  haughty  Simons  who 
scowl  upon  the  outcasts,  but  the  loving  disciples  of 
Jesus,  who  go  in  among  them,  and  try  to  understand 
them,  and  seek  to  show  them  tokens  of  affection. 
Society,  ay,  even  the  Christian  Church  itself,  has  been 
too  long  in  learning  this  lesson:  but  we  have  fallen  now 
on  better  times ;  and  many  a  noble  woman  and  many 
an  earnest  man  has  gone  down  into  the  shiks  of  inicpiity, 
unappalled  by  dangers,  and  unrepelled  by  unpleasant- 
ness, and  has  brought  l)ack  priceless  souls  which  shall 
sliine  forever  in  tlic  diadem  of  Christ.  Let  us  indjibe 
their  spirit,  and  follow  their  example.    If  Jesus  touched 


224  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUE   SAVIOUR. 

and  received  sinners,  what  right  have  we  to  stand  aloof 
from  them?  He  was  without  sin;  but  we — God  help 
us! — we  are  sinners  in  his  sight,  not  greatly  different 
from  them.  Why,  then,  should  we  be  so  pharisaical? 
Oh !  as  we  read  this  narrative,  let  us  learn  the  lesson  of 
these  simple  lines,  — 

"  Deal  kindly  with  the  erring, 
Oh  !  do  not  thou  forget, 
However  darkly  stained  by  sin, 
He  is  thy  brother  yet. 

"  Heir  of  the  self-same  heritage. 
Child  of  the  self-same  God, 
He  hath  but  stumbled  in  the  path 
Thou  hast  in  weakness  trod. 

"  Deal  kindly  with  the  erring  : 
Thou  yet  mayst  lead  him  back, 
With  holy  words  and  tones  of  love, 
From  misery's  erring  track. 

"  Forget  not  thou  hast  often  sinned, 
And  sinful  yet  must  be  : 
Deal  kindly  with  the  erring  one. 
As  God  has  dealt  with  thee." 

Finally,  if  we  wish  to  love  God  much,  we  must  think 
much  of  what  we  owe  to  him.  Low  views  of  sin  lead 
to  a  light  estimate  of  the  blessing  of  pardon,  and  a 
light  estimate  of  the  blessing  of  pardon  will  lead  to  but 
a  little  love  of  God.  This  cuts  deep,  m}^  brethren. 
Your  love  to  God  will  be  but  the  other  side  of  your 
hatred  of  sin  ;  and  there,  as  it  seems  to  me,  is  the  radi- 
cal defect  in  much  of  the  religious  ex])erience  of  the 
day.  Men  make  light  of  their  obligation  to  Christ 
because  they  have  first  made  light  of  sin.     Low  views 


THE   TWO  DEBTORS.  225 

of  the  evil  of  sin  are  at  the  root  of  all  heresies  in  doc- 
trine and  all  unlioliness  in  life.  Get  rid  of  all  such 
minimizing  ideas  of  sin,  1  beseech  you ;  and  to  that  end 
come  near  the  cross,  for  nowhere  does  sin  seem  so  vile 
as  it  does  there.  May  God  open  your  eyes  to  see  it 
there  ;  and  then  you  will  hate  it  with  an  utter  hatred, 
and,  being  forgiven,  will  love  Christ  with  an  exceeding 
love. 


226  TUE  P ARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 


XV. 

THE    GOOD    SAMARITAN. 

(Luke  X.  25-27.) 

The  occasion  which  called  forth  this  parable  is  as 
well  known  as  the  parable  itself.  One  of  the  class  of 
lawyers,  who  were  not  solicitors  or  barristers,  as  among 
us,  but  rather  expounders  of  the  books  of  Moses,  came 
to  Jesus  with  the  inquiry,  "  Master,  what  shall  I  do  to 
inherit  eternal  life  ?  "  We  cannot  tell  what  his  motive 
was  for  proposing  such  a  question.  The  Evangelist  in- 
forms us  that  he  was  "  tempting  "  Jesus  ;  but  the  word  so 
rendered  simply  means  that  he  was  putting  him  to  the 
test,  and  it  may  be  used  either  in  a  good  or  a  bad  sense. 
It  is  possible  that  this  inquirer  thought  that  he  might 
succeed  in  embarrassing  the  Lord,  either  by  reducing 
him  to  silence  or  by  entrapping  him  into  some  inconsist- 
ency. But  as  the  question  which  he  put  had  reference 
to  the  most  important  subject  which  can  engage  the  at- 
tention of  any  man,  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  he  was 
sincere.  The  Lord  replies  to  him,  as  he  did  to  so  many 
others,  by  putting  a  question  in  his  turn.  Through  the 
understanding  of  that  which  they  already  knew,  he 
sought  to  lead  men  up  to  the  perception  of  that  which 
they  were  inquiring  after.  So  he  said  to  this  man, 
"  What  is  written  in  the  law  ?  How  readest  thou  ?  " 
hi  answer  the  lawyer  gave  a  correct  summary  of  the 
ten   connnands,    according   to    the  word   of  Moses   in 


THE  GOOD  SAMARITAN.  227 

Deuteronomy  and  Leviti(3us  ;  wlicreupon,  desiiin;4'  llicre- 
by  to  bring  him  to  a  sense  of  his  own  sinfulness  and 
helplessness,  the  Saviour  said,  "  Thuu  liast  answered 
right :  this  do,  and  thou  shalt  live."  But  he  had  not 
done  that ;  and  as  the  point  of  the  Saviour's  probe  was 
eoming  a  little  too  near  to  be  quite  comfortable,  he 
sought  to  fence  off  all  further  thrusts  by  diverting  the 
conversation  into  a  discussion  about  the  meaning  of  a 
word.  So  he  asked,  "  Who  is  my  neighbor  ?  "  and  he 
got  for  answer  this  simple  story,  which,  like  the  picture 
of  a  skilful  artist,  speaks  for  itself,  linding  its  way  at 
once  "  through  the  eye  to  the  heart,"  and  disdaining  all 
elaborate  exi)osition  as  absolutely  unnecessary. 

But  two  things  must  strike  every  attentive  reader. 
The  first  is,  that  the  parable  was  not  so  much  an  answer 
to  the  question  formally  put  by  the  lawj'er,  as  an  expo- 
sure of  the  state  of  heart  which  the  putting  of  that  ques- 
tion revealed.  The  inquirer  wanted  a  definition  of  the 
word  "  neighbor."  The  Lord  answers  by  showing  him 
true  neighborliness  in  contrast  with  selfish  indifference. 
He  wished  to  know  whom  he  was  to  consider  as  his 
neighbor :  the  Lord  answers  by  showing  him  the  actions 
of  one  who  did  not  need  to  put  any  such  question,  and 
leaves  him  to  draw  the  inference,  that,  wherever  the 
true  spirit  of  benevolence  is  present,  it  will  not  stand 
in  the  face  of  suffering,  mocking  it  with  the  cry,  "  Who 
is  my  neighbor?"  but  will  recognize  the  claim  of  every 
afflicted  and  down-trodden  fellow-man  to  sympathy  and 
succor.  Thus  the  parable  does  not  tell  us  in  form  who 
our  neighbor  is,  l^utjt^shows  us  how  true  love  works. 

But  the  second  peculiarity  of  this  parable  is,  that  it  is 
not  an  allegory,  each  figure  in  which  represents  a  spir- 
itual analogue  ;  but  simply  an  illustrative  exami)le  of 
the  working  of  benevolence,  as  contrasted  with  that  of 


228  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

selfishness.  If  we  look  at  the  parable  of  the  sower,  we 
find  that  Jesus  gives  the  interpretation  after  this  fash- 
ion, "  This  is  he  which  received  seed  by  the  wayside  ; " 
"  He  that  received  the  seed  into  stony  places,  the  same 
is  he,"  etc. ;  "  He  also  that  received  seed  among  the 
thorns  is  he,"  etc. ;  "  But  he  that  received  seed  into  the 
good  ground  is  he,"  etc.  Each  kind  of  ground  thus  repre- 
sented or  signified  a  different  sort  of  hearer  of  the  Word. 
But  you  could  not  so  interpret  the  parable  of  the  good 
Samaritan.  You  could  not  say  the  traveller  is  so  and 
so,  the  thieves  are  such  and  such,  the  priest  is  this  class, 
and  the  Levite  that,  and  the  good  Samaritan  a  third, 
Avhile  the  inn  is  meant  to  symbolize  one  thing,  and  the 
two  pence  another.  That  would  lead  us  into  unending 
absurdity.  The  interpretation  is  given  by  our  Lord, 
when,  pointing  to  the  good  Samaritan,  he  said,  "Qo^ 
an_d  do_tiigu_  likewiijc."  Therefore  the  story  is  an  idealr 
ized _exa,m4)le  of  tru^benevolence  in  contrast  with  utter 
selfishness.  It  may  have  been  actual  fact.  There  is 
nothing  of  improbability  about  it.  The  road  from  Jeru- 
salem to  Jericho  was  dangerous  from  its  being  infested 
jwith  robbers ;  priests  and  Levites  were  likely  enough 
to  be  often  on  it,  as  Jfuiulip  was  a  priestly  city ;  and  a 
Saormritan  might  be  there  on  business.  So  that  there  is 
no  inherent  impossibility,  or  even  improbability,  in  the 
supposition  that  it  was  an  actual  occurrence.  We  in- 
cline, however,  to  the  view  that  it  was  purely  imagina- 
tive, but  the  product  of  that  highest  sort  of  imagination 
which  gets  at  the  deepest  truth  through  fiction.  In  any 
case,  it  is  not  an_  aliggory,  but  an  illustration,  designed 
to  show  us  what  we  Qiust  avoid,  as  well  as  what  we 
must  cultivate,  if  we  would  truly  and  fully  love  our 
neiglibor  as  ourselves. 

First  we  see   a  traveller  set  upon  by  robbers,  who 


THE  GOOD  SAMARITAN.  220 

strip  him  of  his  money,  his  raiment,  and  his  goods, 
and  wound  him,  and  depart,  leaving  him  half  dead. 
Very  clearly  there  is  no  neighhor-love  in  that.  Next 
we  observe  a  priest  coming  along,  on  his  way  from 
Jerusalem  to  his  country  home;  but,  though  he  sees 
full  well  the  straits  to  which  the  unfortunate  man 
has  been  reduced,  he  "passes  by  on  the  other  side." 
Just  as  clearly  there  is  no  neighbor-love  in  that.  Then, 
after  the  priest  has  gone  out  of  sight,  a  Levite  makes 
his  appearance.  As  he  conies  up  to  the  victim  of  the 
robbers'  violence,  he  pauses  a  few  moments  to  look  at 
him,  and  we  begin  to  think  that  he  will  do  sometliing 
for  him  ;  but,  after  all,  he  also  "passes  by  on  the  other 
side."  Just  as  clearly  there  is  no  neighbor-love  in  that. 
After  he  has  gone,  a  Samaritan  on  horseback  rides  up  ; 
and  as  soon  as  he  perceives  the  poor  man's  ijlight,  he 
dismounts,  sets  to  work  for  the  reviving  of  the  half- 
dead  one,  by  pouring  oil  into  his  wounds,  and  wine  into 
his  mouth,  then  lifts  him  up  on  to  the  saddle,  and  bears 
him  to  an  inn,  where  he  sees  that  he  is  well  cared  for 
at  his  expense.  Tlien,  when  he  departs  on  the  morrow, 
he  leaves  with  the  host  a  sum  suflicicnt  for  the  immedi- 
ate wants  of  hia  p7'oteu^,  and  this  bhmk  check,  as  I  may 
call  it,  to  1)0  filled  in  at  the  discretion  of  the  landlord, 
to  wliom  he  was  evidently  well  known:  "Take  care  of 
him  ;  and  whatsoever  thou  spendest  more,  when  I  come 
again  I  will  repay  thee."  Now,  here,  the  lawyer  himself 
being  the  judge,  —  here  was  true  neighbor-love.  There- 
fore, teaching  him  out  of  his  own  mouth,  Jesus  said  to 
him,  "  Go  and  do  thou  likewise.  The  suffering  whom  x^ 
thou  canst  relieve,  the  ignorant  whom  thou  canst  in- 
struct, the  degraded  whom  thou  canst  elevate,  the  op- 
]>ressed  whom  tliou  canst  protect,  wherever  he  maybe, 
and  whatever  be  his   nationality,  barbarian,  Scythian, 


M 


230  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

bond  or  free,  he  is  thy  neighbor.     Go,  therefore,  and  do 

to  him  as  the  Samaritan  did  for  the  wounded  traveller." 

Let  us,  therefore,  analyze  as  far  as  we  may  the  actions 

of  this  Samaritan,  and  see  if  we   can  get  any  fuller 

\y  apprehension  of  the  meaning  of  this  "  likewise." 


I.  In  the  first  place,  then,  it  is  clear  that  the  kindness 
of  this  man  was  of  the  spirit,  and  not  merely  of  the 
letter.  Here  was  one  main  point  of  difference  between 
him  and  the  priest  and  Levite.  They  needed  a  specific 
injunction,  but  he  wanted  to  carrj^  out  a  great  princi- 
ple. Had  they  found  in  the  law  a  command  to  this 
effect,  "  If  thou  shalt  see  a  man  lying  half  dead  upon 
the  highwayside,  thou  shalt  not  pass  him  by  unheeded, 
but  shalt  surely  help  him,"  I  think  that  they  would 
have  exerted  themselves  for  his  deliverance.  But  be- 
cause the  precept  ran,  "  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor 
as  thyself,"  and  did  not  define  who  their  neighbor  was, 
or  what  precisely  they  were  to  do  for  him,  they  ima- 
gined that  they  were  under  no  obligation  to  do  any  thing 
whatever  on  his  behalf.  In  the  mind  of  the  Samaritan, 
however,  love  meant  the  doing  of  every  thing  within 
his  power,  for  all  who  required  his  help ;  and  therefore, 
without  asking  any  questions  or  making  any  excuses, 
he  gave  the  poor  man  all  the  assistance  he  could. 

This  distinction  must  be  clearly  seen  by  every  one, 
and,  indeed,  it  is  apparent  in  all  departments  of  human 
^activity.  Thus,  in  the  workshop,  you  have  on  the  one 
hand  the  man  who  gives  only  his  hands  to  his  emploj^er, 
and  does  mechanically  only  what  he  is  hired  to  do,  —  no 
less,  indeed,  but  no  more, — and  on  the  other  j^ou  have 
the  ready  and  obliging  artisan,  who  finds  much  to  do 
which  no  contract  can  specify,  and  cheerfully  does  that 
without  requiring  to  be  asked.     In  the  counting-house 


THE  GOOD   SAMARITAN.  231 

there  is,  on  the  one  hand,  the  hid  who  is  always  stick- 
ling about  the  performance  of  this  or  that  piece  of  work 
because  it  is  not  in  what  he  calls  "  his  department,"  and 
who  gets  himself  heartily  liated  for  his  pains ;  and,  on 
the  other,  the  active  and  obliging  youth,  who  does  what 
lie  sees  needs  to  be  done,  wliether  it  is  his  own  proper 
work  or  not,  and  whose  sole  ambition  it  is  to  promote 
the  happiness  of  all  around  him,  and  advance  the  in- 
terests, of  his  employer.  So  important  is  this  distinc- 
tion as  a  criterion  of  character,  that,  if  I  were  required 
to  decide  concerning  a  man's  moral  principle,  I  would 
not  examine  so  carefully  what  he  is  in  respect  to  what 
ethical  writers  have  called  the  determinate  virtues, 
which  are  marked  off  by  a  well-defined  boundary  from 
their  opposite  vices,  but  I  would  investigate  very  thor- 
oughly what  he  is  in  regard  to  those  virtues  which  are 
indeterminate,  the  measure  of  a  man's  devotion  to  them 
being  left  to  the  i)romptings  of  his  own  heart.  A  man 
cannot  be  a  thief  or  a  liar  without  crossing  a  well- 
marked  boundary  between  right  and  wrong;  but  he 
may  be  a  selfish  churl  without  knowing  it,  because  in 
regard  to  benevolence  the  law  is  left  indefinite,  being, 
indeed,  like  an  algebraic  formula,  expressed  in  terms  so 
general  that  they  need  to  be  translated  by  the  occasion 
into  definite  particulars.  Where  the  law  is  so  broad 
as  to  be  applicable  to  all  circumstances,  there  is  always 
a  danger  that  some  will  feel  no  obligation  to  obey  it  in 
any  circumstances ;  and  only  the  heart  which  has  im- 
bibed the  principle  or  spirit  of  the  law  will  feel  its  force 
continually.  Here,  then,  let  us' examine  ourselves,  and 
see  what  manner  of  men  we  are.  If  we  do  tliat  only 
which  is  formally  ])rescribed,  and  if,  where  the  law 
leaves  a  blank  to  be  filled  up  by  circumstances,  we  act 
as  if  there  was  no  law  at  all,  then  we  have  yet  to  learn 


232  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

what  true  benevolence  is ;  nay,  more,  we  have  yet  to 
learn  what  kmd  of  a  book  the  New  Testament  is :  for 
it  is  not  a  list  of  distinct  precepts,  each  of  which  is 
apj)licable  to  only  one  case ;  but  it  is  a  book  of  living 
principles  of  universal  application,  and  he  who  really 
understands  them,  and  has  a  heart  to  feel  their  obliga- 
tion, will  be  at  no  loss  to  find  occasion  for  their  mani- 
festation. To  read  it  as  if  it  were  a  set  of  rubrics,  with 
minute  directions  for  every  detail  of  conduct,  will  make 
us  Pharisees :  to  read  it  as  a  book  of  great  princij^les 
that  are  to  have  free  course  through  all  our  actions, 
even  as  the  blood  has  through  the  body,  will  make  us 
the  disciples  of  Him  "who  went  about  doing  good." 
Instead,  therefore,  of  waiting  for  any  minute  definition 
in  the  letter,  like  that  which  this  lawyer  expected  when 
he  said,  "Who  is  my  neighbor?"  let  us  show,  that, 
taught  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  stimulated  by  the  exam- 
ple of  the  Lord  Jesus,  we  have  learned  to  see  that  every 
sufferer  whom  we  can  assist  has  a  claim  of  neighbor 
love  upon  us  which  we  cannot  repudiate  without  injur- 
ing him  and  dishonoring  God. 

\^  II.  In  the  second  place,  we  may  perceive  that  this 
man's  benevolence  was  not  hindered  by  any  prejudices 
of  nationality  or  religion.  The  injured  traveller  was 
an  entire  stranger  to  him,  but  he  did  not  say  within 
himself  on  that  account,  "  He  has  no  claim  upon  me." 
He  was,  besides,  a  Jew.  So  much,  indeed,  is  not  said 
in  the  parable,  because  Jesus  was  speaking  to  Jews,  and 
therefore  they  would  suppose  that  one  of  their  own 
nation  was  meant  unless  another  nationality  had  been 
specifically  ascribed  to  him.  He  was,  then,  a  Jew  ;  and 
the  feud  between  his  people  and  the  Samaritans,  because 
it  was  a  religious  one,  between  people  that  were  neigh- 


THE  GOOD   SAMARITAN.  '  233 

bors,  and  agreed  in  certain  points  while  they  differed  on 
others,  was  exceedingly  bitter:  yet  he  did  not  exclaim, 
"  Let  him  die,  for  all  I  care  !  "  No  :  he  was  a  man,  in 
great  straits,  and  all  other  things  were  forgotten  by 
him  in  the  presence  of  these  two.  In  other  circum- 
stances he  might  have  enjoyed  a  debate  with  him  about 
the  rival  claims  of  Moriah  and  Gerizim,  or  perhaps  he 
might  have  allowed  his  prejudice  to  carry  itself  so 
strongly  as  to  make  him  pass  him  without  any  saluta- 
tion ;  but  in  the  presence  of  his  misery  he  loses  remem- 
brance, for  the  time,  of  such  matters.  Nationality  is 
swallowed  up  by  humanity,  and  sectarianism  is  put  to 
flight  by  religion,  as  he  dismounts  to  minister  to  a  suf- 
fering fellow-man. 

Now,  here,  again,  we  are  furnished  with  a  test  as  to 
the  genuineness  of  our  own  neighbor-love ;  and  by  its 
application  we  may  discover  that  our  benevolence  is 
often  chilled,  if  not,  indeed,  absolutely  killed,  by  some 
prevalent  influences.  These  may  be  described  as  caste, 
denominationalism,  and  a  certain  prudishness  which  we 
may  call  purism. 

There  is,  first,  caste.  That  is  commonly  supposed,  in- 
deed, to  be  a  Eeathenish  thing,  having  no  existence  in 
our  land  of  I'berty  and  equality.  But  that  is  a  popular 
delusion.  The  word  may  be  foreign,  but  that  which  it 
signifies  is  home  grown.  ,  There  are  Brahnians  and 
Pariahs  here,  as  really  as  in  Hindostan.  There  are  fami- 
lies brought  up  among  us  to  believe  that  those  who  live 
in  poorer  houses  or  have  darker  skins  than  themselves 
exist  for  their  benefit ;  and,  as  a  consequence,  they  treat 
them  with  despite.  Their  dignity  would  be  lowered  if 
they  were  to  attend  to  sufferers  in  such  humble  circum- 
stances ;  and  so,  like  the  priest  and  the  Levite,  they 
pass  them  by  on  the  other  side.     But  true  love  knows 


234  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

nothing  of  any  such  distinctions.  Rich  and  poor,  white 
and  black,  Caucasian  and  Mongolian,  are  alike  to  her, 
when  they  are  touched  by  the  sanctifying  hand  of  afflic- 
tion ;  or,  if  she  makes  any  difference  between  them,  she 
gives  the  preference  to  the  lowliest  as  having  fewest 
friends.  She  believes  that  greatness,  like  wisdom,  "  is 
ofttimes  nearer  when  we  stoop  than  when  we  soar;" 
and  in  her  ear  the  gratitude  of  the  humblest  whom 
she  has  relieved  is  sweeter  far  than  the  hollow  flat- 
tery of  worldly  pride. 
V  Then  there  is  denominationalism.  Now,  let  it  not 
be  supposed  that  I  dispute  the  principle,  that,  while  we 
should  do  good  to  all  men  as  we  have  opportunity, 
there  is  an  "especially"  in  the  case  of  those  who  are  of 
the  household  of  faith ;  or,  that  I  deny  that  a  church 
should  have  a  peculiar  care  over  its  own  poor.  On  the 
contrary,  I  admit  both  of  these  propositions.  But  I 
altogether  deny  that  a  Christian's  benevolence  should  be 
restricted  within  the  bounds  of  his  own  denomination, 
or  even  of  the  Church  of  Christ.  We  are  Christians 
first,  before  we  are  denominationalists ;  we  are  men 
before  we  are  Christians :  and  I  have  an  utter  abhor- 
rence of  that  system  which  refuses  to  help  those  who 
cannot  pronounce  "  shibboleth  "  as  we  do,  or  who  have 
not  yet  found  their  way  to  the  foot  of  the  cross.  Had 
this  Samaritan  insisted,  that,  before  receiving  his  assist- 
ance, the  poor  traveller  should  have  assented  to  the 
pre-eminence  of  Gerizim  over  Jerusalem,  he  would  only 
have  insulted  the  misery  which  he  was  offering  to 
alleviate.  But  before  the  majesty  of  suffering,  all  such 
sectarianism  disappeared;  and  it  should  be  so  among 
ourselves.  When  a  man's  house  is  on  fire,  we  do  not 
stay  to  bid  him  repeat  the  Apostles'  Creed  before  we 
begin  to  help  him  to  extinguish  the  flames;    and  it 


THE  GOOD  SAMARITAN-.  235 

seems  the  paltriest  of  all  proceedings,  to  restrict  our 
benevolence  to  any  class  of  religionists.  The  great 
thing  we  have  to  do  in  a  case  of  suffering  is  to  relieve 
it ;  and  it  is  not  Avithout  the  deepest  suggestivencss, 
that  the  relief  here  was  given  by  a  man  who  belonged 
to  a  sect  which  Christ  himself,  on  another  occasion,  de- 
clared to  be  clearly  in  the  wrong.  So  that,  in  his  vicAv, 
we  are  left  to  infer  that  heterodoxy  showing  love  is  a 
better  thing  than  orthodoxy  manifesting  indifference. 

The  last  thing  tending  among  us  to  counteract  be- 
nevolence is  what  I  have  called  purism ;  and  it  is 
characteristic  of  those  who  have  set  themselves  up  as 
guardians  of  the  public  morals,  so  that  they  can  not  or 
will  not  help  those  who  have  brought  their  suffering 
upon  themselves  by  their  sins.  Now,  here,  again,  I  am 
as  far  as  possible  from  saying  that  benevolence  should  be 
exercised  so  indiscriminately  as  to  bestow  a  premium 
upon  vice ;  and  I  must  confess,  that  in  this  city,  and  in 
these  days,  a  wise  caution  should  be  exercised  when  we 
seek  to  do  good  to  others.  Either  we  should  ourselves 
make  personal  inquiry  into  each  case,  or,  through  the 
medium  of  the  Charity  Organization  society,  we  should 
make  sure  that  we  are  dealing  with  a  real  necessity, 
and  not  helping  to  maintain  one  of  those  professional 
"  bummers  "  who  prey  upon  the  gullibility  of  the  peo- 
ple. I  have  nothing  to  say  against  such  discrimina- 
tion in  our  benevolence ;  but  what  I  want  to  condemn 
is  the  spirit  of  those  who  say  in  the  face  of  deepest 
misery,  "  Well,  he  has  brought  it  upon  himself.  He 
has  made  his  own  bed,  let  him  lie  upon  it  as  best  he  may. 
It  is  only  what  he  deserves."  Such  language  might  be 
appropriate  in  the  mouth  of  an  angel,  —  only  there  is  not 
one  of  them  who  would  use  it,  —  but  it  is  dreadful  in 
the  mouth  of  a  sinful  man.    "  What  he  deserves  I "    Has 


u 


236  TEE  PAP  ABLE  S  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

not  the  great  dramatist  said,  "  Use  ever}^  man  after  his 
deserts,  and  who  should  'scape  whipj)ing?"  And  what 
and  where  should  we  now  have  been,  if  God  had  acted 
toward  us  on  such  a  principle  ?  Thus,  for  all  so  ear- 
nest as  it  seems  in  virtue's  cause,  this  purism  is  at  heart 
a  Christless  thing.  Be  it  that  the  man  has  brought  it 
upon  himself;  is  he  for  that  to  die  unhelped,  while  we 
stand  by  and  piously  moralize  over  his  misdeeds?  It 
will  be  time  enough  to  give  our  moral  lesson  when  his 
misery  is  alleviated,  and  we  may  then  hope  that  it  will 
be  heeded ;  but  to  give  a  lecture  when  the  cry  is  for 
help,  is  something  like  giving  a  serpent  for  a  fish,  or  a 
scorpion  for  an  egg.  Thus  again  we  come  back  to  the 
queenly  majesty  of  love,  for  wherever  she  exists  she 
makes  a  way  for  herself.  No  fashionable  barriers  will 
stop  her  progress  ;  no  denominational  boundaries  will 
hedge  in  her  efforts ;  no  guilt,  even,  will  seal  up  the 
fountain  of  her  beneficence.  Over  all  such  obstacles 
she  will  triumph ;  and,  be  the  sufferer  who  he  may,  she 
will  see  in  him  a  man  wearing  the  nature  which  the 
Son  of  God  has  consecrated  by  his  incarnation,  and 
ransomed  by  his  blood;  and,  for  liis  sake,  she  will 
relieve  him. 

V  III.  In  the  third  place,  it  is  obvious  that  this  man's 
benevolence  was  not  hindered  by  any  considerations  of 
personal  convenience.  He  might  have  said  within  him- 
self, as  he  looked  at  the  rapidly  westering  sun,  "  I  must 
be  in  Jericho  on  urgent  business,  by  a  certain  time." 
Or  he  might  have  reasoned  after  this  fashion :  "  If  I  am 
found  near  this  poor  man,  I  may  get  into  trouble,  and 
be  accused  of  robbing  and  maltreating  him."  Or,  more 
plausibly  still,  he  might  have  thought,  "  These  cruel 
robbers  cannot  be  far  awa}^,  and  they  may  attack  me 


THE  GOOD  SAMARITAN.  237 

also :  therefore  I  must  hasten  on  as  rapidly  as  possible." 
Or,  in  sordid  avarice,  he  might  have  argued  that  he 
could  not  afford  to  do  all  that  was  required  ;  and  so,  like 
the  priest  and  the  Levite,  he  too  might  have  passed  by 
on  the  other  side.  But,  no !  he  could  do  nothing  but 
help  this  poor,  helpless  man.  It  made  no  matter  what 
should  come  to  him.  His  business  might  take  care  of 
itself  for  the  time  ;  he  might  be  accused  of  the  robbery; 
he  might  even  be  robbed,  himself ;  it  might  cost  him  a 
good  deal  before  he  was  done  with  it:  but,  whatever 
came,  this  man  should  be  helped.  Thus  he  forgot  him- 
self in  the  presence  of  the  traveller's  distress,  and  set 
himself  at  once  to  revive  and  relieve  him. 

Now,  by  this,  again,  we  may  try  our  own  benevo- 
lence ;  and  when  we  apply  to  it  this  testing  acid,  I  fear 
that  much  of  what  looks  like  finely  polished  charity 
will  prove  to  be  no  better  than  burnished  selfishness. 
Many  do  kindnesses,  that  they  may  be  seen  and  hon- 
ored of  men.  They  will  give,  if  the  giving  will  secure 
them  some  coveted  position,  or  in  some  way  else,  as 
the  phrase  is,  "  bring  grist  to  their  own  mill."  Some 
will  give  money  to  buy  themselves  off  from  personal 
exertion.  Others  will  give  their  personal  exertion  to 
save  their  money.  But  in  the  instance  before  us,  both 
were  given ;  for,  what  genuine  neighbor-love  does,  it 
will  do  thoroughly.  Self  will  save  always  what  is 
dearest  to  self,  but  love  is  ready  to  sacrifice  up  to  tlie 
extent  of  the  necessity  which  it  seeks  to  meet.  And 
blessed  be  God,  there  is  such  love  among  us !  I  have 
seen  it  in  the  wealthy  Christian,  whose  money  and 
whose  time  were  largely  given  to  the  service  of  suffering 
humanity.  I  liave  seen  it  in  the  poor  Christian,  who 
out  of  compassion  has  taken  into  his  home  an  orphan 
child,  and  done  for  it  in  every  respect  as  for  his  own. 


238  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

I  have  seen  it,  too,  where  one  would  scarcely  expect  to 
find  it,  as  when  some  despised  "woman  of  the  city" 
gives  herself  up  to  the  tending  of  a  guilty  sister  whose 
misery  was  deeper  than  her  own.  Alas  that  a  case  like 
that  should  put  to  shame  the  selfishness  of  many  who 
claim  to  be  the  followers  of  the  Lord  Jesus ! 

IV.  In  the  fourth  place,  it  is  evident  that  this  man's 
benevolence  took  its  form  from  the  nature  of  the  misery 
which  he  sought  to  relieve.  He  did  the  very  things 
which  the  sufferer  needed  to  have  done  for  him,  and  he 
did  these  at  once.  He  might,  indeed,  have  put  himself 
about  in  many  other  ways,  under  the  idea  that  he  was 
helping  the  unfortunate  traveller;  but  nothing  could 
have  met  the  case  save  the  method  which  he  adopted. 
He  had  no  stereotyped  mode  of  showing  mercy,  which  he 
sought  invariably  to  follow ;  but  he  did  in  each  case  just 
what  each  required.  Now,  this  is  very  important,  be- 
cause, for  lack  of  attention  to  it,  many  people's  benevo- 
lence, though  it  may  be  very  well  meant,  is  a  total  failure. 
In  "Ivors,"  which  is  one  of  ]Miss  Yonge's  best  stories, 
you  may  remember  that  there  is  a  gouty  old  admiral 
who  is  continually  saying  most  caustic  yet  true  things ; 
and  among  other  remarks  bearing  on  the  point  now 
before  us,  he  is  represented  as  affirming  that  "  There  is 
a  great  mania  abroad  at  present  for  doing  good,  and 
wonderfully  little  common-sense  in  setting  about  it." 
This  witness  is  true ;  and  in  few  things  is  the  lack  of 
common-sense  more  apparent  than  in  the  neglect  to 
adapt  the  efforts  which  are  put  forth,  to  the  necessities 
which  they  are  designed  to  meet.  Thus,  a  man  has 
been  wonderfully  successful  in  one  or  more  instances 
by  using  a  particular  method,  and  forthwith  he  becomes 
so  enamoured  of  it  that  he  uses  it  on  every  sort  of  occa- 


THE  GOOD  SAMARITAN.  239 

sion ;  but  in  the  vast  majority  of  cases  it  fails,  because 
it  is  not  adapted  to  more  than  one  class  of  instances. 
In  the  fortifications  on  the  Dardanelles,  there  are  said 
to  be  some  guns  which  are  so  built  in,  that  they  can  hit 
a  vessel  only  at  one  point;  and  so  they  are  useless 
except  at  the  moment  when  a  ship  is  passing  that  point. 
Now,  the  benevolence  of  the  man  of  whom  I  am  now 
speaking  is  like  one  of  these  guns.  It  can  meet  only 
one  class  of  cases ;  whereas  it  ought  rather  to  be  like  the 
swivel-gun  upon  tlie  turret-ship,  which  sweeps  tlie  hori- 
zon round  and  round.  Even  as,  in  perfect  consistency 
with  the  general  principles  of  medical  science,  the 
remedy  must  be  changed  to  meet  the  disease,  so  our 
efforts  in  practical  beneficence  must  take  their  shape 
from  the  evils  which  we  mean  to  mitigate.  The  path 
which  I  take  in  going  after  him  who  is  out  of  the  way 
must  be  regulated  by  the  situation  of  the  wanderer, 
else  I  shall  never  find  him.  And  so  in  every  other  case. 
Thus  the  surroundings  of  each  instance  of  suffering 
must  determine  the  form  in  which  it  is  to  be  best  met 
by  benevolence ;  and  so  the  principle  of  love  is  kept 
from  being  stereotyped,  and  every  case  draws  out  new 
inventiveness.  And  what  is  true  of  individuals  is  also 
true  of  difierent  ages  and  nations.  The  charities  of  the 
past  will  not  meet  the  exigencies  of  the  present,  and 
the  kind  of  instrumentaUty  called  into  existence  by  the 
evils  of  a  hundred  years  ago  will  not  meet  the  new 
miseries  of  to-day.  Thus  the  questions  suggested  in 
this  particular  by  the  parable  before  us  are,  "  What 
interpretation  is  given  to  this  '  Go,  and  do  thou  like- 
wise,' by  the  recjuirements  of  our  own  times?  Where 
in  these  days  shall  I  find  the  counterpart  of  this  poor, 
hali-dead  traveller?  and  what  for  me  will  correspond  to 
the  oil  and  the  wine  and  the  money  which  his  benefac- 


240  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

tor  gave  ?  What  does  tins  '  Go,  and  do  thou  likewise,' 
mean  now  and  here  for  me?"  These  questions,  each 
one  must  grapple  with  and  settle  for  himself;  and,  hav- 
ing found  an  answer  to  them,  he  must  seek  to  meet  the 
new  necessity  with  means  as  admirably  adapted  to  their 
purpose  as  were  those  which  this  Samaritan  adopted. 
One  will  find  this  poor  traveller  in  the  little  Arab  of 
the  streets,  and  will  seek  through  the  Children's  Aid 
Society  or  the  Home  for  the  Friendless,  or  other  kin- 
dred agency,  to  rescue  him  from  a  future  of  crime,  and 
prepare  him  for  becoming  a  good  and  useful  citizen 
and  an  earnest  Christian.  Another  will  see  him  in  the 
poor  victim  of  drunkenness ;  and  through  the  Christian 
Home  for  Intemperate  Men,  or  some  similar  house  of 
mercy,  he  will  endeavor  to  secure  his  emancipation  from 
the  slavery  of  appetite.  Another  will  find  him  in  the 
freedman  struggling  up  towards  Christianity  and  educa- 
tion, and  will  help  him  in  his  ascent.  But  what  need 
I  more?  To  identify  this  Samaritan  in  modern  times, 
would  take  me  round  the  entire  circumference  of  human 
misery.  You  have  but  to  open  your  eyes  to  see  him 
anywhere ;  and,  when  you  recognize  him,  see  to  it  that 
you  open  your  hearts  and  your  hands  for  his  assistance. 

^'  V.  But  now,  as  supplementary  to  the  teaching  of  the 
parable,  I  add,  that,  if  our  benevolence  would  be  of 
the  highest  order,  we  must  exercise  it  out  of  regard  to 
Him  who  died  to  show  mercy  to  ourselves.  I  do  not, 
of  course,  imagine  that  such  a  thought  was  in  the  mind 
of  this  Samaritan,  even  as  Jesus  has  portrayed  him. 
But  I  do  see  the  great  heart  of  Christ  himself  throbbing 
through  this  story.  Was  not  he  himself,  in  a  very 
exalted  sense,  the  good  Samaritan  to  the  human  race  ? 
And,  as  he  points  to  Calvary,  has  he  not  a  right  to  say, 


THE  GOOD   SAMARITAN.  241 

as  none  other  can,  "  Go,  and  do  thou  likewise  "  ?  Plere 
is  the  grand  motive  power,  under  the  influence  of  which 
that  command  is  to  be  obeyed :  "  Ye  know  the  grace 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who,  though  he  was  rich,  for 
3-our  sakes  became  poor,  that  ye  through  his  poverty 
might  be  rich."  As  he  kiid  down  his  life,  that  we  might 
be  delivered,  so  let  us  make  cheerful  sacrifice  of  every 
thing,  —  money  or  time,  or  even,  if  need  be,  life  itself, 
—  for  the  sake  of  the  suffering  among  our  fellows. 
Thus  our  humanity  will  rise  into  Christianity,  and  our 
benevolence  will  be  baptized  into  the  name  of  the  Lord 
Jesus. 

I  conclude  with  the  story  of  an  incident  in  the  life 
of  my  grandfather,  which  I  have  often  heard  from  my 
father's  lips.  It  was  more  than  a  hundred  years  ago, 
when  wheeled  conveyances  were  rarely  used  in  the 
rural  districts  of  Scotland,  and  the  custom  was  to  con- 
vey grain  to  the  mill  in  a  sack  laid  over  a  horse's  back. 
The  good  man  was  making  such  a  journey  once,  over  a 
rough  bridle-path ;  and  the  horse  stumbled,  so  that  the 
sack  fell  off.  The  weight  of  years  was  on  his  shoulders, 
and  he  could  not  replace  the  load.  As  he  was  per- 
plexed, and  wondering  what  to  do,  he  saw  a  man  on 
horseback  in  the  distance,  and  had  just  made  up  his 
mind  to  ask  him  for  assistance,  when  he  recognized  _in 
him  the  nobleman  who  lived  in  an  adjoining  castle ;  and 
then  his  heart  sank  again  within  him,  for  how  could  he 
request  him  to  help  him  ?  But  he  did  not  need  to  ask 
him,  for  he  was  noble  by  a  higher  patent  than  any  mon- 
arch could  confer ;  and,  when  he  came  up,  he  dis- 
mounted of  his  own  accord,  saying,  "  Let  me  help  you, 
John."  So  between  them  they  put  the  load  again  upon 
the  horse;  and  then  John,  —  who  was  a  gentleman  too, 
though  he   did  wear  "hodden  gray,"  —  taking  off  his 


242  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

broad  Kilmarnock  bonnet,  made  obeisance,  and  said, 
"  Please  your  lordship,  how  shall  I  ever  thank  you  for 
your  kindness  ?  "  —  "  Very  easily,  John,"  was  the  reply. 
"  Whenever  you  see  another  man  as  sorely  needing 
assistance  as  you  were  just  now,  help  him;  and  that 
will  be  thanking  me." 

So,  as  we  contemplate  the  sacrifice  of  Christ  on  our 
behalf,  we  cry,  "  What  shall  I  render  unto  thee,  O  Lord, 
for  all  thy  benefits  toward  me  ?  "  and  there  comes  this 
answer :  "  Whensoever  thou  seest  a  fellow-man  needing 
thy  succor  as  much  as  thou  wast  needing  mine  when  I 
gave  my  life  for  thee,  help  him,  and  that  will  be  thank- 
ing me."  "  Inasmuch  as  ye  do  it  unto  one  of  the  least 
of  these  my  brethren,  ye  do  it  unto  me." 


THE  FRIEND  AT  MIDNIGHT.  243 


•  XVI. 

THE   FRIEND    AT   MIDNIGHT. 

(Luke  xi.  6-13. J 

This  parable  is  introduced  by  Luke  in  connection 
with  his  account  of  the  manner  in  which  the  Lord  an- 
swered the  request  of  his  disciples,  tliat  he  would  teach 
them  to  pray,  "  as  John  also  taught  his  disciples."  They 
had  seen  him  at  his  private  devotions,  probably  had  even 
overheard  his  supplications  to  his  Father,  and  had  been 
thereby  made  to  feel  how  far  they  were  from  knowing 
any  thing  about  such  prayer  as  that  which  he  had  of- 
fered. Hence  they  asked  to  be  instructed  in  the  mat- 
ter ;  and  in  response  he  gave  them,  both  as  a  model  and 
a  form,  that  beautiful  cluster  of  petitions  which  he  after- 
ward repeated  in  his  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  and  which 
we  are  accustomed  to  call  "  the  Lord's  Prayer."  Then, 
as  some  among  them  may  have  mentally  interjected  the 
objection,  "  But  we  have  prayed  frequently,  and  have 
received  no  answer,"  he  told  this  simple  story  to  encour- 
age them  to  continue  in  humble,  fervent,  believing,  and 
patient  prayer.  The  case  is  clearly  a  supposition ;  and 
the  parable,  like  that  of  the  good  Samaritan,  which  we 
have  already  considered,  is  illustrative,  and  not  typical 
or  symbolical.  We  must  not  say  that  the  friend  at  mid- 
night represents  God,  or  that  the  manner  of  the  appli- 
cant at  his  door  shows  how  we  are  to  proceed  in  making 
supplication  to  God,  or  that  the  newly  arrived  stranger 


244  TUE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

denotes  any  particular  class,  or  that  there  is  any  special 
significance  in  the  loaves.  This  story  is  merely  an  illus- 
tration, on  which  an  argument  is  founded ;  and  it  is  of 
immense  importance,  that  we  have  a  correct  idea  of  what 
that  argument  really  is. 

First,  however,  let  us  have  the  case  supposed  clearly 
before  us.  It  is  midnight.  A  friend  has  arrived  from  a 
distance,  and  he  to  whose  house  he  has  come  has  nothing 
to  set  before  him.  In  his  extremity  he  goes  to  a  neigh- 
bor, and  knocks  at  his  door  to  state  his  necessity,  and 
to  ask  for  help.  But  the  sleepy  response  is,  "  Trouble 
me  not :  the  door  is  now  shut,  and  my  children  are  with 
me  in  bed.  I  cannot  rise  and  give  thee."  The  suppli- 
ant, however,  is  not  to  be  thus  denied ;  so  he  thunders 
away  shamelessly,  even  impudently,  at  the  door,  until, 
in  sheer  despair  of  getting  any  rest  otherwise,  and  sim- 
ply to  get  rid  of  what  he  deems  a  nuisance,  his  neighbor 
rises,  and  gives  him  what  he  wants.  "  I  say  unto  you," 
says  the  Lord,  "  though  he  will  not  rise  and  give  him 
because  he  is  his  friend,  yet  because  of  his  importu- 
nity "  —  or  rather,  as  it  ought  to  be  rendered,  "  shame- 
lessness,"  or,  more  strongly  still,  "  impudence  "  —  "  he 
will  rise  and  give  him  as  many  as  he  needeth."  Then 
the  Lord  proceeds  to  give  the  Magna  Ghana  of  prayer 
in  the  familiar  words,  "  And  I  say  unto  you,  Ask,  and  it 
shall  be  given  you  ;  seek,  and  ye  shall  find  ;  knock,  and 
it  shall  be  opened  unto  j'-ou.  For  every  one  that  asketh 
receiveth,  and  he  that  seeketh  findeth,  and  to  him  that 
knocketh  it  sliall  be  opened."  To  this  he  appends  a 
comparison  between  an  earthly  father's  dealings  with 
his  children,  and  those  of  our  heavenly  Father  with  his, 
thus :  "  If  a  son  shall  ask  bread  of  any  of  you  that  is  a 
father,  will  he  give  him  a  stone  ?  or  if  he  ask  a  fish,  will 


THE  FRIEND  AT  MIDNIGHT.  245 

he  for  a  fish  give  him  a  serpent  ?  or  if  he  shall  ask  an 
egg,  will  he  offer  him  a  scorpion  ?  If  ye  then,  being 
evil,  know  how  to  give  good  gifts  unto  your  children, 
how  much  more  shall  your  heavenly  Father  give  the 
Holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ask  him?" 

Now,  these  last  verses,  as  I  believe,  furnish  the 
key  to  the  argument  in  the  parable.  Like  them,  it 
reasons  from  the  less  to  the  greater,  or,  rather,  from 
the  worse  to  the  better.  It  does  not  mean  to  repre- 
sent God  as  gruff  and  disobliging,  like  the  neighbor 
newly  roused  out  of  his  earliest  sleep ;  neither  does 
it  recommend  the  suppliant  to  use  with  God  such 
shamelessness  or  impudence  as  his  friend  employed 
with  him.  But  the  suggested  inference  is  this :  If  the 
impudence  of  that  midnight  knocker  prevailed  even 
with  an  angry  and  annoyed  man  so  much,  that  he 
arose  and  gave  what  was  requested,  how  much  more 
will  the  humble,  reverent,  believing,  and  persevering 
prayer  of  a  true  child  of  God  prevail  with  the  infinitely 
kind  and  loving  Father  to  whom  he  makes  petition? 
Over  against  the  irritated  and  reluctant  man,  only  half 
awake,  he  places  the  calm,  loving  heavenly  Father,  '"  who 
slumbers  not,  neither  sleepeth  ;  "  while,  in  contrast  with 
the  impudence  of  his  troublesome  neighbor,  he  suggests 
such  earnest  pleading  with  a  Father  as  that  which  they 
had  just  seen  in  himself,  or  as  he  had  recommended  in 
the  form  which  he  had  given  them.  And  the  conclusion 
which  he  draws  is :  If  the  appeal  in  the  former  case  was 
ultimately  successful,  how  much  more  is  it  likely  to  be 
in  the  latter !  He  is  far  from  encouraging  us  to  trust 
in  boldness  or  irreverence  or  impudence  in  prayer,  as  so 
many  misunderstand  his  words.  We  shall  not  be  heard 
for  our  fre(]^uent  speaking,  any  more  than  for  our  "much 
speaking."     He  would  not  have  us  trust  in  our  prayer 


246  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

at  all,  bat  in  the  loving,  fatherly  heart  of  Him  to  whom 
we  pray.  Neither  the  place  of  prayer,  nor  the  manner 
of  prayer,  nor  the  frequency  of  prayer,  will  avail.  The 
answer  will  not  come  because  of  any  of  these  things,  but 
simply  because  God  loves  to  give  his  people  that  which 
they  request,  if  it  be  for  their  good ;  and  so,  when  we 
come  to  him,  our  thought  should  be  rather  of  his  grace 
and  wisdom  than  of  any  merit  in  our  supplications,  or 
of  any  attribute  in  them  that  will  constrain  him,  so  to 
sa3%  to  comply  with  our  petitions.  We  are  to  wait  on 
God  in  reverence  and  faith,  biding  his  time,  and  trusting 
in  his  mercy.  For,  if  a  surly  man  ultimately  yields  to 
impudence,  much  more  will  the  good  God  give  the 
humble,  reverent  suppliant  that  which  he  desires. 

I  am  the  more  anxious  to  set  this  clearly  before  you, 
because  of  many  prevalent  errors  on  the  subject  in  these 
days.  The  tendency  among  multitudes,  in  regard  to 
prayer,  is  to  put  more  stress  on  the  sort  of  prayer  that 
is  offered,  than  on  the  fact  that  all  real  prayer  is  offered 
to  a  loving  God,  who  is  better  to  his  people  than  an 
earthly  father  is  to  his  children ;  and  the  notion  of  too 
many  is,  that,  if  they  will  only  keep  at  it  long  enough, 
they  will  ultimately,  and  by  sheer  force  of  importunity, 
prevail,  as  a  teasing  child  wears  out  the  patience,  and 
sometimes  even  dethrones  for  the  time  the  wisdom,  of 
his  })arent.  But  here  is  no  enforcement  of  importunity 
of  that  sort ;  rather,  by  implication,  the  impudence  of 
this  needy  neighbor  is  condemned,  and  over  against  it 
is  set  such  filial  devotion  as  that  which  Jesus  manifested 
when  he  was  praying  to  his  Father.  "  Wait  on  the 
Lord,"  —  that  is  the  lesson.  Wait  upon  him  because 
he  is  the  Lord,  and  not  a  surly  man  who  cannot  be 
troubled  with  your  prayer ;  and,  because  he  is  the 
Lord,  wait  upon  him  in  humility,  in  faith,  in  patience, 


THE  FRIEND  AT  MIDNIGHT.  247 

and  with  such  reverence  as  is  due  to  Him  who  is  the 
King  of  kings  and  Lord  of  lords. 

But  some  may  say,'"  We  have  tried  thus  to  wait  upon 
him,  and  though  we  have  waited  long  our  prayers  are 
still  unanswered :  how,  then,  can  we  reconcile  this  ex- 
perience of  ours  with  the  unqualified  promise  in  these 
words,  '  Ask,  and  ye  shall  receive  ;  seek,  and  ye  shall 
find  ;  knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you.  For  every 
one  that  asketh  receivcth,  and  he  that  seeketh  findeth, 
and  unto  him  that  knocketh  it  shall  be  opened '  ? " 
Now,  what  answer  can  we  give  to  these  troubled  spirits? 
Must  we  admit  that  God  has  been  unfaithful  to  his 
promise  ?  Nay,  for  he  is  the  Faithful  One.  What,  then, 
shall  we  say?  The  answer  will  take  us  into  the  con- 
sideration of  the  conditions  of  successful  prayer ;  and 
as  on  this  subject,  especially  in  its  relation  to  the  cure 
of  diseases,  there  are  current  among  us  so  many  views 
which  savor  more  of  presumption  than  of  faith,  it  may 
be  well  to  discuss  it  with  some  degree  of  fulness.  To 
that,  therefore,  I  shall  devote  the  remainder  of  this  dis- 
course.^ 

Let  it  be  remembered,  then,  that  the  words  here 
utteied  by  the  Lord  Jesus  are  not  the  only  ones  which 
he  has  spoken  in  regard  to  prayer ;  and  that,  to  have  a 
comprehensive  conception  of  the  matter,  we  must  take 
into  consideration  all  his  other  utterances  concerning 
it.  The  recognized  rule  in  the  explanation  of  a  statute 
is,  that  we  should  expound  it  all  in  the  light  of  what  is 
called  the  interpretation  clause ;  and  that,  whenever  we 
have  a  universal  term  by  itself  in  one  place,  and  have 
it  repeated  in  the  same  connection,  with  certain  qualifi- 
cations, in  other  places,  we  are  to  understand  it   as 

1  The  substance  of  what  follows  was  contributed  by  the  author  as  an 
article  to  the  Princeton  Review. 


248  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

being  always  so  conditioned  in  that  connection.  Now, 
to  the  universal  terms  here  employed,  there  are  some 
very  important  conditions  attached  elsewhere;  and  in 
the  light  of  these  must  this  promise  be  interpreted. 
Thus  it  is  said  by  James,  "  Ye  ask,  and  ye  receive  not, 
because  ye  ask  amiss,  that  ye  may  consume  it  upon 
your  lusts ; "  ^  and  again,  "  But  let  him  ask  in  faith, 
nothing  wavering ;  for  he  that  wavereth  is  as  a  wave  of 
the  sea,  driven  by  the  wind  and  tossed."  ^  To  the  same 
effect  are  the  Saviour's  own  words,  "Therefore  I  say 
unto  you,  what  things  soever  ye  desire,  when  ye  pra}^ 
believe  that  ye  receive  them,  and  ye  shall  have  them."  ^ 
More  important  still  is  the  qualification  in  the  words, 
"  If  ye  abide  in  me,  and  my  words  abide  in  you,  ye  shall 
ask  what  ye  will,  and  it  shall  be  done  unto  you."  ^  And 
again,  in  the  Old  Testamejit,  "  Delight  thyself  also  in 
the  Lord,  and  he  shall  give  thee  the  desires  of  thine 
heart."  ^  Nay,  more  :  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of 
one  of  the  universal  passages  already  quoted  is  the  fol- 
lowing :  "  And  when  ye  stand  praying,  forgive  if  ye 
have  aught  against  any;  that  your  Father  also  who  is 
in  heaven  may  forgive  your  trespasses :  but  if  ye  do 
not  forgive,  neither  will  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven 
forgive  your  trespasses."  ^  Moreover,  it  cannot  be  for- 
gotten, that  in  the  Bible  itself  we  have  mention  of 
prayers  offered  for  certain  things  which  the  suppliants 
did  not  receive  :  thus  David  fasted  and  wept  and  prayed 
for  the  life  of  his  little  child,  and  the  child  died  after 
all ;  while  Paul  desired  that  his  thorn  in  the  flesh  might 
be  taken  from  him,  and  received  an  answer  indeed,  but 
yet  not  the  very  thing  which  he  requested.  From  all 
this,  then,  it  is  evident  that  this  universal  promise  is  to 

1  Jas.  iv.  3.  2  Id.,  i.  6.  3  Mark  xi.  24. 

4  John  XV.  7.  6  Ps.  xxxvii.  4.        6  Mark  xi.  25,  26. 


THE  FRIEND  AT  MIDNIGHT.  249 

be  understood  as  qualified  by  some  indispensable  condi- 
tions which  connect  themselves,  first,  with  the  character 
of  the  sujipliant ;  second,  with  the  nature  of  the  thing 
requested ;  and,  third,  with  the  purpose  and  prerogative 
of  God  himself.  By  attending  a  little  to  each  of  these, 
their  importance  will  be  manifest. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  the  success  of  prayer  is  con- 
ditioned by  the  character  of  the  suppliant.  Not  every 
kind  of  asking  is  acceptable  prayer.  That  which  men 
desire  simply  for  the  gratification  of  malice,  or  the  pam- 
pering of  appetite,  or  the  satisfying  of  ambition,  or  the 
aggrandizing  of  selfishness,  God  has  nowhere  promised 
to  bestow ;  and  unless  there  be  in  us  the  spirit  to  subor- 
dinate every  thing  to  the  honor  of  Jehovah,  we  have  no 
warrant  to  expect  an  answer.  Beneath  every  genuine 
prayer  there  must  be  evermore  the  disposition  which  is 
expressed  in  the  doxology,  "  for  Thine  is  tlie  glory : " 
otherwise,  the  reproof  of  James  will  come  in  with  fearful 
pungenc)'-,  "Ye  ask,  and  ye  receive  not,  because  ye  ask 
amiss,  that  ye  may  consume  it  upon  your  lusts."  ^ 

Again,  the  wish  that  simply  flits  across  the  soul,  as 
the  shadow  of  the  cloud  glides  over  the  summer  grass, 
is  no  true  prayer.  It  must  take  hold  of  the  spirit,  and 
gather  into  itself  all  the  energy  and  earnestness  of  the 
man.  The  popular  idea,  indeed,  is  that  prayer  is  a  very 
simple  matter :  but,  in  reality,  it  is'the  highest  exercise 
of  the  soul,  and  requires  for  its  presentation  the  con- 
centration of  all  its  powers;  and  the  English  prelate 
was  right  when  he  said  that  "  no  man  is  likely  to  do 
much  good  in  i)rayer  who  does  not  begin  by  looking 
upon  it  in  the  Hglit  of  a  work  to  be  prepared  for,  and 
persevered  in,  with  all  the  earnestness  which  we  bring 
to  bear  upon  subjects  which  are,  in  our  opinion,  at  once 

1  Jas.  iv.  3. 


250  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

most  interesting  and  most  necessary."  ^  To  the  same 
effect  are  the  words  of  Coleridge.  "  Believe  me,"  said 
he  to  his  nephew,  two  years  before  his  death,  "  to  pray 
with  all  your  heart  and  strength,  with  the  reason  and 
the  will,  to  believe  vividly  that  God  will  listen  to  your 
voice  through  Christ,  and  verily  do  the  thing  that 
pleaseth  him  at  last,  —  this  is  the  last,  the  greatest 
achievement  of  the  Christian's  warfare  on  earth.  —  Teach 
us  to  pray,  Lord."  ^ 

But  no  one  can  long  persist  in  such  prayer  without 
faith ;  and  so  at  tliis  point  the  Saviour's  qualifj'ing  word, 
"  believing,  ye  shall  receive,"  is  appropriate.  The  ear- 
nest petitioner  knows  that  he  is  not  beating  the  air. 
His  faith  is  not  in  his  prayer,  but  in  his  God ;  and  the 
stronger  that  faith  is,  the  more  earnest  will  be  his  per- 
severance. Even  though  he  knows  that  the  blessing  is 
coming,  nay,  just  because  he  knows  that  it  is  coming, 
he  will,  like  Elijah  on  Mount  Carmel,  go  again  and 
again,  until  in  the  little  cloud  he  sees  the  beginning  of 
the  answer. 

But  more  important  even  than  any  of  these  conditions 
in  the  character  of  the  suppliant  is  that  laid  down  by 
Jesus,  when  he  says,  "  If  ye  abide  in  me,  and  my  words 
abide  in  you,  ye  shall  ask  what  ye  will,  and  it  shall  be 
done  unto  you."  The  man  who  is  abiding  in  Christ  has 
his  eye  purified  so  that  he  clearly  perceives  what  things 
he  ought  to  ask ;  while  at  the  same  time  he  is  in  that 
state  of  preparation  which  renders  the  granting  of  his 
prayers  a  blessing  to  him,  and  not  a  curse.  We  need, 
therefore,  to  be  in  a  high  condition  of  holiness  before 
we  can  have  fulfilled  to  us  the  promise,  "  Ye  shall  ask 

1  Bishop  Hamilton;  quoted  by  Liddon,  in  Some  Elements  of  Re- 
ligion, p  172. 

2  Coleridge's  Complete  Works,  vol.  vi.  p.  237. 


THE  FRIEND  AT  MIDNIGHT.  251 

what  ye  will,  and  it  shall  be  done  unto  you."  We 
must  not  take  the  first  part  of  that  declaration,  and 
divorce  it  from  the  second  :  it  is  only  in  the  measure  in 
which  we  are  abiding  in  Christ,  and  his  words  are  abid- 
ing in  us,  that  we  have  any  right  to  expect  that  our 
prayers  shall  be  answered.  Behold  how  this  was  seen 
in'  Abraham  when  he  took  it  upon  him  to  speak  unto 
the  Lord,  It  was  the  meeting  of  friend  with  friend. 
On  the  one  hand  Jehovah  said,  "Shall  I  hide  from 
Abraham  that  thing  which  I  do  ? "  and,  on  the  other, 
Abraham  said  unto  the  Lord,  "  Peradventure  ten  shall 
be  found  there  ; "  and  the  answer  came,  "  I  will  not  de- 
stroy it  for  ten's  sake."  We  are  apt  to  imagine,  at  first 
thought,  that  all  this  was  the  manifestation  of  mere 
earnestness  ;  but  out  of  what  did  that  earnestness  spring  ? 
It  sprung  out  of  the  closeness  of  Abraham's  walk  with 
God ;  that  is,  out  of  his  abiding  in  God,  and  of  God's 
words  abiding  in  him.  So  it  was  with  all  the  others 
spoken  of  in  the  Bible  as  successful  suppliants.  Daniel, 
the  beloved,  had  his  eyes  opened,  in  answer  to  his 
prayers,  because  he  was  so  exalted  in  character ;  and 
he  who  saw  the  great  Apocalypse  was  the  disciple  who 
leaned  upon  the  Master's  breast  at  supper,  and  had 
drunk  in  most  of  his  spirit.  Successful  prayer  is  thus 
the  fruitage  of  a  holy  character ;  and  it  is  only  when 
we  delight  ourselves  in  God,  that  we  can  calculate  upon 
receiving  the  desires  of  our  hearts.  It  is  thus,  indeed, 
a  great  thing  to  pray ;  and,  when  all  these  things  are 
taken  into  consideration,  we  need  not  be  surprised  that 
so  few,  comparatively,  of  our  re(iuests  are  answered. 
The  cause  is  not  in  God,  but  in  ourselves ;  for,  tried  by 
these  tests,  the  best  of  us  must  confess  that  we  have 
rarely  prayed  at  all. 

But  a  second  class  of  conditions  connect  themselves 


252  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR  SAVIOUR. 

with  the  nature  of  the  thing  requested.  That  which 
we  ask  must  be  in  accordance  with  God's  will.  Beneath 
every  genuine  supplication,  there  is  the  spirit  of  resig- 
nation breathed  by  Jesus  himself  in  his  Gethsemane 
anguish :  "  Nevertheless,  not  as  I  will,  but  as  Thou  wilt." 
We  are  ignorant  and  short-sighted,  and  very  often  ask 
for  things  which  would  be  hurtful  to  us.  We  cannot 
see  the  end  from  the  beginning ;  and  so,  frequently, 
that  which  at  present  seems  to  us  desirable  would  ulti- 
mately prove  injurious.  When,  therefore,  we  ask  for 
such  a  thing,  God  does  with  us  precisely  as  we  do  with 
our  own  children,  and  keeps  it  from  us  for  our  good. 
There  are  many  instances  of  this  in  Scripture,  and  it  is 
so  common  in  human  experience  that  even  Shakspeare 
has  referred  to  it  in  these  lines  :  — 

"  We,  ignorant  of  ourselves, 
Beg  often  our  own  harms,  which  the  wise  powers 
Deny  us  for  our  good  :  so  find  we  profit 
By  losing  of  our  prayers." 

Nor  is  this  ignorance  only  partial,  and  confined  to 
certain  petitions.  "  Ye  know  not  what  ye  ask,"  is  true, 
in  a  very  deep  sense,  even  of  the  simplest  request  which 
is  presented  to  God.  Who  can  tell  all  that  is  involved 
in  the  granting  of  a  single  desire  ?  It  seemed  a  little 
thing  to  the  sons  of  Zebedee,  to  ask  that  they  should 
sit,  the  one  on  the  right  hand,  and  the  other  on  the  left 
hand,  of  the  Master  in  his  kingdom,  —  a  thing  to  be 
granted  as  easily  as  one  sets  a  chair  for  another  in  a 
room ;  but,  in  reality,  it  involved  in  it  the  drinking 
of  a  cup  of  agony,  and  the  submitting  to  a  baptism  of 
fire,  of  which  at  the  moment  the  two  apostles  did  not 
dream.  Now,  the  very  same  ignorance  which  James 
and   Jolm   manifested  regarding  the  meaning  of  their 


THE  FRIEND  AT  MIDNIGHT.  258 

prayer,  exists  in  iis  all  regarding  the  effect  which  the 
granting  to  us  of  the  very  thing  we  ask  would  have 
upon  us.  We  cannot  tell  what  bearing  on  ourselves, 
or  on  our  households,  or  on  our  church,  or  on  our 
neighborhood,  the  giving  to  us  of  the  very  thing  we 
ask  may  have.  We  ask  for  worldly  prosperity ;  but 
perhaps  it  is  denied  us,  because  God  sees  that  if  we  had 
it,  we  should  become  full,  and  deny  him.  We  ask  for 
deliverance  from  that  physical  weakness  which  makes 
to  us,  it  may  be,  every  work  a  burden ;  but  no  strength 
comes,  —  perhaps  because  God  sees  that  only  by  some 
such  chronic  disability  he  can  keep  us  at  his  feet.  And 
so  with  other  things.  God  is  no  mere  blind,  indulgent 
father,  who  gives  his  children  every  thing  they  ask. 
He  is  wise  and  kind,  and  has,  withal,  the  discrimination 
of  omniscience  ;  so  he  gives  only  that  which  will  be 
best :  and,  if  we  were  to  view  the  matter  rightly,  we 
should  see  as  much  reason  to  be  thankful  to  him  for  a 
refusal  as  for  an  answer  to  the  letter  of  our  prayers. 

But  this  condition,  connecting  itself  with  the  nature 
of  the  thing  asked,  is  nearly  akin  to  the  third  class  of 
conditions  which  spring  out  of  the  purpose  and  prerog- 
ative of  God  himself.  This  is  a  view  of  the  case  which 
has  not  been  sufficiently  attended  to  by  Christians. 
"The  hearer  of  prayer"  is  not  the  only  relation  in 
which  God  stands  to  his  people.  He  is  their  Father 
as  well ;  and  he  is,  besides,  the  moral  Governor  of  the 
intelligent  universe.  Therefore  he  uses  his  prerogative 
in  answering  prayer  for  moral  purposes  ;  and  the  ac- 
tion which  he  takes  on  the  petitions  of  his  children  is 
a  portion  of  that  discipline  to  which  he  subjects  them, 
and  by  which  he  trains  them  into  strength  and  holiness 
of  character.  Or,  it  may  be,  that  tlie  kind  of  answers 
which  he  gives  is  determined  by  the  influence  which 


254  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

the  suppliant's  example  may  have  on  others.  He  may 
give  what  is  asked,  in  order  that  they  who  ask  it  may  be 
convinced  of  the  folly  of  their  request.  He  may  deny 
that  which  is  besought,  in  order  that  by  the  denial  he 
may  open  the  suppliant's  eyes  to  the  need  of  higher 
blessings,  and  stimulate  him  to  ask  for  these.  Or,  he 
may  give  something  else  than  that  which  is  craved,  be- 
cause, while  it  will  be  equally  valuable  to  the  petitioner, 
it  will  be  an  encouragement  and  assistance  to  many 
others. 

There  are  illustrations  of  all  these  in  the  word  of 
God.  Thus,  when  the  children  of  Israel  in  the  wilder- 
ness cried  for  supplies,  it  is  said  that  "he  gave  them 
their  request,  but  sent  leanness  into  their  soul."  ^  So, 
again,  when  the  tribes  desired  a  king,  he  gave  them 
Saul,  that,  through  the  infliction  of  that  monarch's  arbi- 
trary and  capricious  tyranny,  they  might  be  convinced 
of  the  wickedness  of  their  desire.  Never  was  there  a 
more  devout  and  sincere  suppliant  than  he  with  whom 
God  talked  face  to  face ;  and  yet,  when  he  pressed  his 
suit  to  be  permitted  to  enter  Canaan,  Jehovah  an- 
swered, "  Let  it  suffice  thee :  speak  no  more  to  me  of 
this  matter,"  ^  in  order  that  all  people  might  know  from 
this  denial,  even  to  Moses,  how  dreadful  a  thing  sin  is 
in  the  sight  of  the  Lord.  For  a  similar  reason,  prob- 
ably, it  was,  that  David's  prayer  for  the  life  of  his  child 
was  not  granted.  And,  when  Paul  thrice  besought  the 
Lord  for  the  removal  of  his  thorn,  the  answer  came 
not  in  the  healing  of  his  body,  but  in  the  strengthening 
of  his  spirit ;  that  believers  in  every  age  might  be  able 
to  appropriate  the  promise,  "  My  grace  is  sufficient  for 
thee :  my  strength  is  made  perfect  in  Aveakness." 

It  is  thus  apparent  that  the  promise  of  answer  to 

1  Ps.  cvi.  15.  2  Dent.  iii.  26. 


THE  FBIEND  AT  MIDNIGHT.  255 

prayer,  though  given  in  universal  terms  in  some  pas- 
sages, is  qualified  by  the  wisdom  and  love  of  Him  who 
gave  it ;  and  that  he  will  keep  it  only  in  so  far  as  it 
shall  be  for  the  highest  welfare  of  his  people  that  he 
should.  While  declaring,  in  general  phrase,  that  he 
will  give  what  his  children  ask,  God  yet,  to  speak  after 
the  manner  of  men,  reserves  to  himself  a  certain  dis- 
cretionary power,  so  that  he  may  cither  deny  that  which 
is  requested,  or  bestow  something  else,  according  as  he 
sees  what  shall  be  best  in  all  the  circumstances  of  each 
case.  His  great  design,  in  the  administration  of  his 
moral  government,  is  to  advance  the  interests  of  the 
gospel,  and  through  that  to  promote  holiness  and  happi- 
ness among  men.  Now,  the  hearing  of  prayer  by  him 
is  only  a  means  to  that  end.  It  is  not  an  end  in  itself. 
God  does  not  exist  simply  and  only  to  answer  prayer. 
He  is  the  Governor  of  the  world,  and  the  Father  of  his 
people ;  and  his  hearing  of  prayer  is  only  one  among 
many  means  which  he  employs  for  the  discipline  of  his 
people  and  the  training  of  them  into  holiness. 

Now,  if  these  views  are  sound  and  scriptural,  then 
there  may  be  deduced  from  them  three  inferences  of 
great  practical  value. 

In  the  first  place,  we  may  see  how  impossible  it  is  for 
us  to  discover  the  results  of  prayer,  by  any  merely  hu- 
man test.  How,  for  example,  shall  we  determine  when 
a  true  prayer  is  offered?  If  so  rhuch  depends  on  the 
character  and  spirit  of  the  suppliant,  how  can  any  one, 
who  is  unable  to  read  the  heart,  tell  when  the  request 
which  a  seeker  presents  is  such  as  God  can  approve  ? 
How,  again,  can  any  external  observer  take  cognizance 
of  such  spiritual  considerations  as  those  which  must 
enter  into  the  determination  of  the  questions  whether, 
and  in  what  form,  a  prayer  has  been  answered?     Where 


256  THE  PABABLES   OF  OUB   SAVIOUB. 

are  the  delicate  instruments  which  shall  indicate  or 
measure  the  results,  on  the  character  of  the  suppliant, 
which  are  produced  sometimes  by  the  denial  and  some- 
times by  the  granting  of  his  requests?  Therefore  we 
cannot  classify  results  here,  and  argue  from  them,  as 
we  do  in  statistical  investigations.  The  demand  which 
was  made  some  years  ago,  for  a  scientific  test  of  prayer, 
betrayed  on  the  part  of  those  who  made  it  ignorance  of 
the  fact  that  prayer  lies  not  in  the  plane  of  physical 
science,  but  in  that  of  moral  and  spiritual  things ;  and 
indicates  a  spirit  not  unlike  that  of  the  Israelites  of  old, 
when  they  tempted  God,  and  said,  "  Is  the  Lord  among 
us,  or  no  ?  "  In  the  wards  of  the  hospital,  the  physician 
deals  with  each  patient  according  to  his  disease,  his 
temperament,  his  constitution,  and  his  history.  He 
does  not  give  each  what  he  requests.  He  may  even 
give  to  one  the  very  thing  which  he  has  just  denied  to 
the  patient  next  him.  And  he  does  all  that  from  con- 
siderations altogether  beyond  their  knowledge,  and  per- 
haps, also,  above  their  comprehension.  He  is  there, 
not  simply  to  grant  their  requests,  but  to  heal  their 
diseases.  So  with  God  and  his  people.  He  treats  each 
one  as  he  requires ;  and  grants  his  prayer,  or  refuses  to 
grant  it,  according  as  it  will  best  promote  his  spiritual 
welfare.  But  how  can  men,  who  look  merely  on  the 
outward  appearance,  take  cognizance  of  considerations 
which  are  patent  only  to  the  eye  of  God?  No  mere 
human  test  can  distinguish  a  true  prayer  from  a  false 
one  ;  and  if  it  cannot  judge  of  the  cry  which  comes  out 
of  the  lips  of  a  man,  how  can  it  analyze  the  answer 
which  comes  out  of  the  heart  of  God  ? 

But,  as  a  second  inference  from  this  whole  subject,  it 
may  be  seen,  that,  to  be  successful  suppliants,  we  must 
be  holy  men.    "  The  secret  of  the  Lord  is  with  them  that 


THE  FlilEND   AT  MIDNIGHT.  257 

fear  Iiim,  and  lie  will  show  them  his  covenant.'''  Char- 
acter, as  God  sees  it,  gives  its  quality  to  prayer ;  and 
they  who  are  nearest  akin  to  God  in  holiness  get  the 
most  frequent  answers  to  their  requests.  Yet  this  is 
the  consequence  of  their  holiness,  and  not  the  reward 
of  it.  Their  purity  of  heart  has  clarified  their  spiritual 
perception,  so  that  they  see  plainly  what  they  should 
ask  for,  and  asking  that  they  are  not  disappointed. 
Thus  the  prevailing  prayer  of  the  closet  is  that  of  the 
"righteous  man,"  and  the  measure  of  personal  holiness 
is  the  measure  also  of  the  power  of  petition.  You  hear 
of  the  great  results  that  have  been  wrought  by  prayer, 
in  the  history  of  men  and  institutions ;  and  few  more 
striking  things  are  written  anywhere  on  that  subject 
than  those  to  be  found  in  "  Praying  and  Working,"  by 
Dr.  Stevenson  of  Dublin.  But  beware  of  supposing 
that  nothing  but  asking  is  involved  in  such  successes. 
The  asking  was  of  a  peculiar  kind :  it  was  that  of  men 
who  lived  much  with  God,  and  were  doing  much  for 
God,  and  whose  characters,  in  the  life  of  every  day, 
illustrated  the  gospel  of  the  Lord  Jesus.  It  was  that, 
moreover,  of  men  who  were  diligently  seeking,  by  the 
use  of  appropriate  means,  to  answer  their  own  praj^ers  ; 
and  not  by  one  spasmodic  leap  can  we  vault  into  their 
privilege.  It  belongs  only  to  their  holiness  and  ac- 
tivity ;  and  through  growth  in  these  alone  shall  we 
grow  into  their  success.  But  if  we  seek  it  only  for  the 
success's  sake,  or  only  to  be  like  those  who  have  been 
successful,  we  shall  ignominiously  fail.  They  sought  it 
from  God,  that  they  might  give  it  to  God ;  and  those 
who  would  imitate  them  must  do  the  same. 

As  a  final  inference  from  these  considerations,  it  may 
be  noted   how  necessary  it  is   that  prayer  should  be 

»  Ps.  XXV.  14. 


258  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR. 

characterized  by  entire  submission  to  the  will  of  God. 
The  undertone  of  every  supplication  should  be,  "  Thy 
will  be  done."  There  is  a  warrant  for  stretching  ear- 
nestness up  to  this  point,  "  Father,  if  it  be  possible  ; " 
but  that  must  always  be  combined  with  the  "  neverthe- 
less, not  as  I  will,  but  as  thou  wilt."  That  is  a  prayer 
which  is  always  answered  ;  and  the  answer  to  it  can  bring 
ultimately  nothing  but  blessing  to  him  who  breathes  it 
sincerely,  though  in  the  immediate  future  there  may  be 
betrayal  and  crucifixion.  So  let  the  Christian  go  his 
way,  undistracted  by  the  unguarded  things  which  spirit- 
ual enthusiasts  have  said  about  the  power  of  prayer; 
and,  having  faith  in  God,  let  him  leave  every  request 
with  him,  sure  that  in  the  end  he  shall  either  get  that 
which  he  seeks  or  something  better.  Thus,  in  the  words 
of  the  good  Leighton,  "  True  prayers  never  come  weep- 
ing home  ; "  and  again,  ''  This  is  the  excellent  advan- 
tage of  the  prayer  of  faith,  that  it  quiets  and  establishes 
the  heart  in  God,  Whatsoever  be  its  estate  and  desire, 
when  once  he  hath  put  his  petition  into  God's  hand,  he 
rests  content  in  holy  security  and  assurance  concerning 
the  answer,  refers  it  to  the  wisdom  and  love  of  God 
how  and  when  he  will  answer ;  not  doubting  that  what- 
soever it  be,  and  whensoever,  it  shall  be  both  gracious 
and  seasonable.  But  the  reason  why  so  few  of  us  find 
that  sweetness  and  comfort  that  is  in  prayer  is  because 
the  true  nature  and  use  of  it  are  so  little  known." 


TUE  FOOLISn  BICH  MAN.  259 


XVII. 

THE   FOOLISH   RICH   MAN. 

(Luke  xii.  13-21.) 

The  character  of  a  man  is  often  indicated  by  the  di- 
rection which  his  thoughts  take  when  he  is  listening  to 
a  religious  exhortation.  Commonly,  indeed,  the  speaker 
gets  all  the  blame  if  he  cannot  hold  the  attention  of  his 
auditors  to  the  subject  which  he  desires  to  impress  upon 
them.  But,  frequently,  the  true  cause  is  to  be  found  in 
the  fact  that  the  soul  of  his  hearer  is  inthralled  by  some 
overmastering  passion.  Here,  for  example,  the  greatest 
of  all  preachers,  even  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  himself, 
while  speaking  of  such  important  matters  as  the  danger 
of  hypocrisy,  the  comfort  that  comes  from  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  universality  of  the  providence  of  God,  and 
the  duty  of  confessing  the  truth  before  men,  relying  on 
the  promised  help  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  is  interrupted  by 
the  ejaculation  of  one  of  the  company  to  this  effect : 
"Master,  speak  to  my  brother,  that  he  divide  the  in- 
heritance with  me."  The  topic  thus  introduced  had 
nothing  whatever  to  do  with  those  which  the  Lord  had 
just  been  handling.  The  interruption,  therefore,  was 
unseasonable.  It  was  even  impertinent,  inasmuch  as 
it  thrust  the  personal  squabbles  of  individuals,  about 
property,  on  the  attention  of  those  whom  he  wished  to 
think  of  topics  immensely  more  important.  It  was,  be- 
sides, an  attempt  to  traffic  in  the  eminence  wliich  Christ 


260  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

had  acquired  as  a  teacher,  by  enlisting  him  on  the  side 
of  one  of  the  disputants  in  a  family  quarrel,  much  as 
men  in  prominent  j)ositions  nowadays  are  pestered  with 
applications  from  every  quarter  to  give  their  influence 
to  enterprises  which  are  to  profit  individuals  who  care 
nothing  for  them,  save  that  they  think  they  can  make 
something  out  of  theu'  names  and  position. 

It  was,  therefore,  with  some  degree  of  severity,  that 
the  Lord  replied,  "Man,  who  made  me  a  judge  or  a 
divider  over  you  ?  "  There  were  properly  constituted 
tribunals  in  existence  for  the  settlement  of  all  such  dis- 
putes, and  to  them  the  complainant  might  apply.  The 
Lord  had  no  jurisdiction  in  the  case.  He  was  not  au- 
thorized by  those  who  alone  could  give  him  the  position 
of  a  judge,  to  deal  with  such  matters;  and  if  he  had 
consented  to  take  action  in  them,  he  would  have  been 
held  as  setting  himself  up  as  the  rival  and  antagonist 
of  the  legal  courts  of  the  land.  Therefore,  just  as 
lie  declined  to  settle  categorically  the  question  about 
tribute,  he  here  refused  to  listen  to  the  complaint  which 
had  been  so  intrusively  thrust  upon  his  attention.  )  It 
was  no  part  of  his  mission  to  meddle  directly  with  legal 
or  political  affairs.  He  came  for  the  regeneration  of  in- 
dividuals, and  through  that  alone  did  he  desire  or  design 
to  affect  the  public  life  of  the  nation.  Therefore  he 
would  be  no  judge  in  such  a  matter  as  this  man  brought 
before  him.  The  man  might,  or  might  not,  have  right  on 
his  side  :  the  courts  would  determine  that.  But  whether 
he  had,  or  not,  one  thing  was  clear,  — the  mere  making 
of  this  demand  by  him,  at  such  a  time,  and  in  such  a 
manner,  showed  that  he  was  moved  by  covetousness ; 
and  so,  rising  from  the  individual  case,  the  Lord  ad- 
dressed himself  to  the  evil  of  which  it  was  a  manifes- 
tation ;  and,  turning  to  the  multitude,  he  said  to  them, 


THE  FOOLISH  RICE  MAN.  261 

"  Take  heed,  and  beware  of  every  form  of  covetousness," 
—  for  so,  according  to  the  best  manuscripts,  the  chiuse 
shoukl  be  read. 

But  what  is  covetousness?  It  is  not  simply  the  desire 
of  property.  For  that  is  one  of  the  mstincts  of  our  na- 
ture ;  and  tlie  effort  to  acquire  wealth  plaj's  a  most  im- 
portant part  in  the  education  at  once  of  the  individual, 
the  nation,  and  the  race.  At  first,  indeed,  such  is  the 
influence  of  our  depravity,  the  desire  for  property  may 
develop  the  direst  selfishness :  but  it  is  undeniable,  that, 
in  proportion  as  a  people  obtains  it,  it  rises  both  morally 
and  socially ;  whereas,  where  no  property  exists,  you 
have  neither  laws,  literature,  civilization,  nor  religion. 
The  attempt  to  acquire  riches  stimulates  frugality,  de- 
velops forethought,  and  encourages  that  kind  of  self- 
denial  which  subordinates  present  enjoyment  to  future 
good ;  while,  again,  the  possession  of  property  leads  to 
the  respect  of  the  rights  of  others.  So  close,  indeed,  is 
the  connection  between  these  two  things,  that,  wherever 
property  ceases  to  be  respected,  there  you  have  an  end 
of  law,  and  an  absolute  reign  of  anarchy  and  terror. 
The  men  who  took  for  their  creed  the  infamous  dictum, 
that  "  property  is  theft,"  saw  the  legitimate  outcome  of 
their  principles  in  the  Parisian  commune  ;  and  when  now 
their  apostles  are  preaching  their  favorite  doctrine  even 
in  our  own  land,  it  is  well  that  we  should  be  reminded 
of  the  consequences  to  which  such  teachings  lead. 

The  desire  of  property,  therefore,  with  a  view  to  its 
right  and  legitimate  use,  is  not  only  not  covetousness, 
but  is  lawful  and  right.  As  Robert  Hall  has  said,  "  If 
there  were  no  desire  for  wealth,  there  would  be  no 
need  of  it.  It  would  soon  cease  to  exist  at  all,  and  so- 
ciety would  go  back  to  a  state  of  actual  barbarism."  ^ 

1  Hall's  "Works,  vol.  i.  p.  147. 


262  THE  PABABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

Covetousness,  therefore,  is  neither  the  having  of  money, 
nor  tlie  desire  to  have  it  for  the  uses  to  which  it  may- 
be rightly  put ;  but  it  is  the  desire  of  having  it  simply 
for  tlie  sake  of  having  it,  — the  making  of  that  which  is 
at  best  a  means  of  ministering  to  life  or  comfort  or 
enjoyment  or  usefulness,  into  the  great  end  for  the 
gaining  of  which  we  live. 

Now,  there  is  always  a  danger,  in  our  depraved  na- 
tures, lest  we  should  allow  that  which  ought  to  be  kept 
subordinate,  to  become  the  controlling  motive  of  our  ex- 
istence ;  and  because  money  is  so  closely  identified  with 
our  daily  lives,  and  so  needful  for  the  supply  of  our  com- 
mon and  ordinary  wants,  that  danger  is  specially  great 
in  reference  to  its  acquisition.  Besides,  the  fact  that  in 
our  modern  society  a  man  is  too  frequently  estimated  by 
the  magnitude  of  his  wealth  only  increases  the  peril : 
so  that  we  have  peculiar  need  of  the  warning,  "  Take 
heed,  and  beware  of  every  form  of  covetousness,"  — 
which  simply  means.  Beware  of  setting  up  the  posses- 
sion of  property  or  riches  as  the  chief  good,  to  which 
every  thing  else  is  to  be  made  subservient.  Let  not  the 
acquirement  of  wealth  become  the  absorbing  ambition  of 
your  life.  Set  not  your  heart  on  possession  as  the  great 
object  of  your  desire.  Do  not  live  simply  to  make 
money  and  hoard  it  up  ;  but  use  what  property  you 
may  acquire,  for  the  promotion  of  those  higher  and 
more  spiritual  ends,  the  attainment  of  which  ought  to 
be  the  great  aim  of  your  existence. 

That  is  the  meaning  of  the  Saviour's  caution,  and  he 
enforces  it  with  this  consideration :  "  For  a  man's  life 
consisteth  not  in  the  abundance  of  the  things  which  he 
possesseth."  {^The  clause  thus  rendered  is,  in  the  origi- 
nal, somewhat  involved,  and  is  rather  difficult  to  trans- 
late.     It  is  thus  given  literally  in  the  margin   of  the 


THE  FOOLISH  RICH  MAN.  263 

Revised  Version  :  "  For  not  in  a  man's  abundance  con- 
sisteth  his  life  from  the  things  which  he  possesseth  j " 
and  some  have  taken  it  to  mean,  that  a  man's  life  does 
not  depend  on  the  surplus  of  what  he  has  above  what 
lie  needs  ;  while  others  would  take  it  as  denoting  that 
life,  in  its  higher  sense,  does  not  consist  in  possession, 
but  in  character.  In  the  former  case,  the  words  simply 
enunciate  the  truth  that  little  is  needed  to  support 
life,  viewed  as  mere  animal  being  and  well-being.  As 
William  Arnot  has  expressed  it  in  his  little  volume  on 
"  The  Race  for  Riches  :  "  ^  "A  very  small  portion  of  the 
fruit  of  the  earth  suffices  to  supply  a  man's  necessities. 
The  main  elements  are  a  little  food  to  appease  hunger, 
and  some  clothing  to  ward  off  the  cold.  These,  as  a 
general  rule,  the  poor. man  obtains;  and  what  more 
can  the  rich  consume  ?  In  this  matter  God  has  brought 
the  rich  and  the  poor  very  near  to  each  other  in  life, 
and  at  death  the  slight  difference  that  did  exist  will  be 
altogether  done  away."  This  is  doubtless,  in  the  main, 
true ;  and  it  accords  readily  enough  with  some  aspects 
of  the  teaching  of  the  parable  which  the  statement  on 
which  we  are  now  commenting  was  meant  to  introduce. 
But  still  it  seems  to  me  to  fall  sadly  beneath  the  high 
level  of  our  Lord's  general  treatment  of  the  subject  of 
life,  and  therefore  I  greatly  prefer  the  other  interpreta- 
tionTj  Life,  in  all  its  breadth  and  depth  of  significance, 
as  the  proper  exercise  and  enjoyment  of  a  rational,  spir- 
itual, and  immortal  being,  such  as  a  man  is,  does  not 
consist  in  possession,  but  in  character;  and  the  true 
riches  are  the  riches  of  the  soul  toward  God.  "  A  man's 
life,"  as  distinguished  from  that  of  a  beast,  docs  not 
depend  on  wcaltli.  His  happiness,  his  usefulness,  his 
honor,  may  be  secured  without  riches ;  and  as,  before 

1  pp.  45,  4C. 


264  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

God,  he  is  estimated  by  what  he  is,  rather  than  by  what 
he  has.  Money  is  not  the  chief  good.  There  are  many 
things  which  it  cannot  purchase,  but  which  yet  may  be 
acquired  and  possessed  by  those  who  are  poor  in  this 
world's  possessions.  Of  this  sort  are  health,  happiness, 
character,  usefulness,  and  especially  that  acceptance 
with  God,  that  relationship  to  Christ,  "in  knowledge 
of  whom  standeth  eternal  life,"  which  we  call  salvation. 
There  are  wealthy  men  who  are  destitute  of  all  these 
things ;  and  there  are  many  among  the  poor  who  possess 
them  all,  being  "•  rich  in  faith,  and  heirs  of  the  kingdom 
of  heaven."  With  a  fact  like  that  before  us,  therefore, 
we  can  easily  see  that  "  a  man's  life,"  in  its  noblest 
sense,  as  the  life  of  one  worthy  to  be  called  a  man, 
"  consisteth  not  in  the  abundance  of  the  things  which 
he  possesseth." 

Now,  it  was  to  illustrate  and  enforce  this  truth,  that 
the  Lord  spake  the  parable  of  the  foolish  rich  man. 
The  story  is  in  itself  so  plain  as  to  need  little  or  no 
explanation.  A  certain  land-owner,  already  possessed 
of  so  much  that  he  is  called  a  rich  man,  saw  an  un- 
usually large  crop  upon  his  fields,  and  began  at  once 
to  consider  how  he  should  dispose  of  it.  He  had  no 
thought,  indeed,  of  doing  any  thing  with  it  but  keeping 
it  to  himself ;  but  even  to  do  that,  he  felt  that  he  would 
require  larger  accommodation  than  he  possessed.  So  he 
determined  to  pull  down  his  barns,  and  build  greater ; 
and  then,  as  if  already  his  purpose  had  been  carried 
out,  he  rejoiced  in  anticipation  over  the  "good  time" 
which  he  would  have,  for  he  exclaimed,  "I  will  say 
unto  my  soul.  Soul,  thou  hast  much  goods  laid  up  for 
many  years ;  take  thine  ease,  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry." 
But  alas !  he  had  forgotten  to  take  God  into  his  reckon- 


THE  FOOLISH   RICH  MAN.  265 

ing,  and  at  tlie  very  time  when  he  was  gleefully  calcu- 
lating on  this  future  enjoyment,  the  decree  came  forth 
from  the  Eternal,  "Thou  fool,  this  night  thy  soul  is 
required  of  thee ;  then  whose  shall  those  things  be 
which  thou  hast  provided?"  That  is  the  story,  and 
the  Lord  adds  the  moral  thus:  "So" — that  is,  such  a 
fool,  and  so  great  —  "  is  he  that  layeth  up  treasure  for 
himself,  and  is  not  rich  toward  God." 

The  essence  of  the  lesson,  thus,  is  the  folly  of  this 
rich  man  ;  and  therefore  the  true  interpretation  will  be 
found  in  the  answer  to  the  question.  Wherein  did  his 
folly  consist?  To  the  consideration  of  that  question, 
therefore,  let  us  now  address  ourselves. 

And  here,  in  the  first  place,  the  folly  of  this  man 
appears  in  the  fact  that  he  completely  ignored  his 
responsibility  to  God  in  the  matter  of  his  possessions. 
He  speaks  of  ^'■mi/  fruits"  and  '■'■mi/  goods,"  and  the 
Lord  describes  him  as  laying  up  treasure  "/or  himself." 
No  doubt  he  had  cultivated  his  ground,  and  soAvn  his 
seed  ;  but,  after  all,  the  greatest  factor  in  the  production 
of  his  wealth  had  been  God,  who  had  sent  his  rain  and 
sunshine,  and  so  caused  his  crops  to  gi'ow  luxuriantly. 
Yet  he  speaks  tluroughout  as  if  he  had  all  the  merit  of 
his  prosperity,  and  gives  God  no  praise ;  while  the  idea 
that  any  portion  of  the  increase  of  his  fields  belonged 
to  God  seems  never  to  have  entered  into  his  mind. 
But  does  this  man  stand  alone  in  this  particular?  Are 
we  not  all  too  sadly  in  the  same  condenniation  with 
him  ?  How  many  among  us  glory  in  the  fact  that  they 
are,  as  the  phrase  is,  self-made  men  ?  Have  we  never 
heard  the  boast  in  the  mouth  of  a  successful  merchant, 
that  he  is  the  architect  of  his  own  fortune  ?  and  are  we 
not  all  too  prone  to  take  to  ourselves  the  sole  cretlit  for 


266  THE  F ARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

any  property  we  have  acquired,  or  for  any  eminence 
we  have  reached?  Yet  it  is  just  as  true  in  every 
department  of  life,  though  perhaps  not  quite  so  ap- 
parent, as  it  is  in  agriculture,  that  the  chief  factor  to 
success  in  it  is  God.  He  gave  the  original  aptitude 
and  ability  to  the  man  ;  his  providence  furnished  the 
means  of  cultivating  both  of  these,  and  opened  up  the 
avenues  to  prosperity ;  and  it  will  commonly  be  found 
that  the  critical  turning-points  of  life,  which  led  directly 
to  the  results  over  which  we  felicitate  ourselves,  were 
due  entirely  to  him,  and  came  altogether  irrespective 
of  our  own  arrangement.  Why,  then,  should  we  take 
the  whole  credit  to  ourselves  ?  Would  it  not  be  more 
appropriate  for  us  to  say,  "  Not  unto  us,  O  Lord,  not 
unto  us,  but  unto  thy  name  give  glory,  for  thy  mercy 
and  for  thy  truth's  sake  "  ? 

But  the  restriction  to  himself  of  the  honor  of  his  suc- 
cess led  directly  to  the  complete  appropriation  by  this 
man  of  its  fruits.  He  regarded  them  as  exclusively  his 
own.  He  acted  as  if  he  felt  that  God  had  no  claim 
to  any  part  of  them  whatever.  Far  from  looking  upon 
himself  as  God's  steward,  he  took  every  thing  for  him- 
self. Therefore  he  never  thought  of  consulting  God 
about  the  disposal  of  Ids  property.  He  asked  no  advice 
of  any  one:  he  simply  "spake  with  himself."  "My 
goods  are  my  own,  and  I  shall  do  with  them  as  I 
please,"  —  that  was  the  language  of  his  heart;  whereas, 
if  he  had  been  animated  by  a  right  spirit,  he  would  have 
said,  "  My  fruits  are  thine,  O  God :  show  me  what  thou 
wouldst  have  me  to  do  with  them."  Now,  am  I  unchar- 
itable when  I  say  that  there  are  too  many  in  these 
modern  times  who  resemble  the  man  in  the  parable  in 
this  also  ?  Multitudes  never  pray  to  God  about  their 
business  at  all.     Some  may  pray  that   he  would  send 


THE  FOOLISn  men  MAN.  267 

tliera  prosperity ;  but  when  the  prosperity  comes,  how- 
few  there  are,  comparatively  speaking,  who  hxy  their 
wealth  at  his  feet,  and  ask  him  to  direct  them  in  dis- 
posing of  it !  Disposing  of  it !  alas,  that  is  the  last 
thing  they  ever  think  of.  Their  one  aim  is  to  keep  it, 
and,  if  possible,  to  increase  it.  Accumulation  is  their 
great  ambition ;  and  if  they  spend  at  all,  they  spend,  too 
many  of  them  at  least,  on  their  own  indulgence,  and 
not  in  the  furtherance  of  those  good  and  noble  objects 
with  which  the  glory  of  God  and  the  welfare  of  men 
are  identified.  We  cry  out  against  those  defalcations 
on  the  part  of  trusted  officials  in  banks  and  other  com- 
mercial houses,  which  have  been  so  frequent  among  us 
in  recent  years ;  and  I  would  not  say  a  single  word 
either  in  vindication  or  in  extenuation  of  such  iniquity. 
It  is  as  wicked  as  it  is  said  to  be,  and  deserves  the 
severest  punishment ;  but  how  many  of  those  who  are 
loudest  in  its  condemnation  are  themselves  guilty  of 
similar  defalcation  before  God,  inasmuch  as  they  have 
kept  for  themselves,  and  spent  on  themselves,  the  wealth 
which  he  has  intrusted  to  them  for  the  welfare  of 
others  and  the  glory  of  his  name?  The  creed  of  the 
communist  is  the  extreme  protest  against  this  extreme 
of  selfislniess,  and,  like  all  other  extremes,  it  is  itself  as 
bad  as  that  against  which  it  protests;  but  if  the  New- 
Testament  doctrine  of  stewardship  were  universally 
acted  upon  by  those  who  are  possessed  of  property, 
communism  would  cease  to  exist.  Property  has  its 
responsibilities,  as  well  as  its  rights  ;  and  if  its  responsi- 
bilities were  more  fully  acted  on,  its  rights  would  be 
more  sacredly  respected.  The  communist  says  to  the 
capitalist,  "  What  is  yours  is  mine,  and  I  will  come  and 
take  it  by  force."  Tliat  is  theft.  But  the  Christian 
says,  "What  is  mine  is  Gud's;  and  I  will  use  it,  under 


268  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

his  direction,  for  the  good  of  others."  That  is  steward- 
ship ;  iand  in  that  alone  is  the  antidote  to  the  troubles 
which  have  so  long  agitated  the  countries  of  the  Old 
"World,  and  which,  alas  !  are  making  their  appearance 
now  among  ourselves.  It  is  an  awful  folly  for  the  man 
'of  wealth  to  ignore  his  responsibility  to  God  for  the  use 
which  he  makes  of  his  wealth.  The  crash  of  1793,  and 
again  of  1871,  in  Paris,  might  have  taught  him  that  if 
he  had  cared  to  learn.  God  grant  there  may  not  come 
to  him  a  more  terrible  lesson  in  the  outburst  of  a  vol- 
cano beneath  his  very  feet  in  this  new  land]) 

But,  in  the  second  place,  the  folly  of  this  man  appears 
in  the  fact  that  he  ignored  the  claims  of  other  men  upon 
him  for  his  help.  He  had  no  idea,  apparently,  that  there 
was  any  other  possible  way  of  bestowing  his  goods  than 
by  storing  them  in  his  barns.  As  Augustine,  quoted 
by  Trench,^  has  replied  to  his  soliloquy,  "  Thou  hast 
barns,  —  the  bosoms  of  the  needy,  the  houses  of  widows, 
the  mouths  of  orphans  and  of  infants;"  these  are  the 
true  storehouses  for  surplus  wealth,  i  It  is  right  to  pro- 
vide for  those  who  are  dependent  upon  us ;  it  is  pru- 
dent to  lay  up  something  in  store  against  a  possible  evil 
day :  but  after  that,  the  storehouse  of  wealth  should  be 
benevolence.  By  scattering  it  in  useful  directions,  it 
will  be  most  effectually  preserved ;  and  there  are  not  a 
few  among  us  to-day,  who,  in  the  reverse  of  fortune 
that  has  come  upon  them  by  recent  disasters,  can  say, 
"  I  have  still  at  least  that  which  I  gave  away :  it  was 
given  to  the  Lord,  and  he  has  taken  care  of  that."  I 
have  somewhere  read  that  a  lady  once  went  to  call  upon 
a  friend  near  the  close  of  autumn,  and  found  her  empty- 
ing  her  closets,   and   exclaiming,   "  Oh,  these    moths ! 

1  Notes  oil  the  Parables,  p.  334. 


THE  FOOLISH  EICH  MAN.  2G9 

these  moths !  they  have  consumed  almost  every  thing 
that  I  laid  away  in  the  beginning  of  the  summer." 
The  visitor  expressed  her  sorrow,  but  said  she  did  not 
know  what  it  was  to  have  a  garment  moth-eaten. 
Whereupon  her  friend  asked  for  the  specific  which  she 
used,  and  to  her  surprise  received  for  answer,  "  I  gave 
away  to  the  poor,  months  ago,  all  the  garments  for 
which  I  had  no  longer  use ;  and  there  was  no  difficulty 
in  preserving  the  remainder  from  the  moths."  The 
true  storehouse  for  our  surplus  is  benevolence.  That 
is  a  barn  which  is  large  enough  for  all  that  we  can  put 
into  it ;  and,  rightly  bestowed  in  that  barn,  our  treas- 
ures are  where  "  neither  moth  nor  rust  doth  corrupt, 
and  where  no  thieves  break  through  to  steal."  Benevo- 
lence clips  the  wings  of  riches,  so  that  they  do  not  fly 
away ;  while,  at  the  same  time,  it  sweetens  the  breath 
of  society,  and  deprives  the  agitator  of  the  stock  in 
trade  wherewith  he  infuriates  the  "  sand-lot  "  audience 
to  deeds  of  violence  and  confiscation.  He  who  has  is, 
in  a  very  important  sense,  a  debtor  to  him  who  has  not. 
As  I  have  elsewhere  said,'  "  What  I  have  that  another 
has  not,  is  to  be  used  by  me,  not  for  my  own  aggrandize- 
ment, but  for  the  good  of  that  other,  as  well  as  for  my 
own.  It  is  committed  to  me  as  a  trust,  and  is  to  be 
expended  by  me  for  the  benefit  of  others  as  well  as  for 
myself.  The  greatness  of  exceptional  endowment,  of 
wliatever  sort  it  may  be,  carries  with  it  an  obligation 
to  similar  exceptional  greatness  of  service.  This  is  the 
gospel  principle.  It  makes  the  powerful  man  the  pro- 
tector of  the  weak ;  the  rich  man,  the  provider  for  the 
poor ;  the  learned  man,  the  teacher  of  the  ignorant ;  and 
the  free  man,  the  emancipator  of  the  enslaved.  Thus, 
by  so  much  the  wealthier  a  man  is,  if  he  acts  on  this 

1  Contrary  Winds  uiul  Other  Sevmous,  p.  I'Jl. 


270  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

2^nnci2)le,  it  will  be  just  so  mucli  the  better  for  the  poor, 
for  whom  he  is  a  trustee."  That  is  the  only  principle 
that  can  preserve  us  from  constant  imbranglement  be- 
tween class  and  class  in  society;  and  they  who  ignore  it 
are  not  only  dishonoring  God,(^but  are  foolishly  furnish- 
ing the  fuse  for  unscrupulous  men  to  use  in  the  produc- 
tion of  some  dynamite  explosion  that  may  shake  the 
nation  to  its  centre. 

;  But,  in  the  third  place,  the  folly  of  this  man  is  seen 
in  the  fact  that  he  imagined  that  material  things  were 
proper  food  for  his  soul.  The  mere  animal  life  of  the 
body  may  be  supported  by  such  goods  as  this  man  was 
about  to  lay  up,  but  the  soul  needs  something  better 
than  these.  Its  true  food  is  God  himself;  and  hence 
Jesus,  in  the  moral  of  the  parable,  calls  the  man  who  has 
that  "  rich  toward  God."  The  Psalmist  tells  us,  that, 
when  the  Israelites  lusted  after  flesh  to  eat,  "  God  gave 
them  their  request,  but  sent  leanness  into  their  soul,"  ^ 
—  words  which  plainly  imply,  that,  while  the  body  may 
be  pampered  with  its  material  food,  the  soul  may  be 
really  starving.  So,  again,  in  reply  to  Satan,  the  Lord, 
quoting  from  Deuteronomy,  said,  "  Man  shall  not  live 
l)y  bread  alone,  but  by  every  word  of  God;"^  and 
when  his  disciples,  having  left  him  hungry,  came  back 
to  the  well,  and  could  not  get  him  to  eat,  he  replied, 
"  I  have  meat  to  eat  that  ye  know  not  of ;  "  "  My  meat 
is  to  do  the  will  of  him  that  sent  me,  and  to  finish  his 
work."  3  Tliat  is  the  true  food  of  the  soul.  All  else  for 
it  is  worse  than  the  husks  which  the  swine  did  eat 
were  to  the  prodigal. 
|_^  But  we  may  get  at  the  same  conclusion  in  another 
way.     Thus  we  speak  of  a  man's  being  rich  in  intel- 

1  Ps.  cvi.  15.  2  Matt.  iv.  4.  s  John  iv.  34. 


THE  FOOLISn  RICH  MAN.  271 

lectual  resources,  meaning  thereby  that  he  has  the 
means  of  satisfying,  to  a  large  extent,  the  cravings  of 
his  mental  nature ;  while,  when  we  say  of  another 
that  he  is  deficient  in  intellectual  resources,  we  wish 
it  to  be  understood  that  he  has  in  himself  nothing  to 
fall  back  upon  in  the  liour  when  he  is  cut  off  from  all 
material  delights.  Now,  carrying  this  mode  of  speech 
up  to  that  moral  and  spiritual  department  which  is 
the  highest  in  our  complex  humanity,  we  see  at  once 
thatjhe  is  rich  who  has  a  good  conscience,  a  will  in 
unison  with  God's,  and  joy  in  the  contemplation  of 
Jehovah ;  while  he  is  poor  whose  soul  is  burdened  with 
a  sense  of  guilt,  which  he  cannot  remove,  and  whose 
heart  is  filled  with  horror  and  dismay  at  the  prospect 
of  standing  naked  and  open  before  the  eyes  of  Him 
with  whom  he  has  to  do.  True  riches  —  or,  in  other 
words,  the  true  food  of  the  soul,  by  which  alone  it 
can  be  nourished  and  satisfied  —  are  to  be  found  in 
God  alone.  Reconciliation  to  God,  peace  with  God, 
likeness  to  God,  and  fellowship  with  God,  —  tliat  alone 
can  fill  the  heart  of  man.  God  for  us  in  the  work  of 
his  Son,  God  with  us  in  the  orde rings  of  his  providence, 
God  in  us  in  the  indwelling  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and 
God  before  us  in  the  hope  of  heaven,  —  that  is  the  true 
food  of  the  spirit  of  man ;  and  to  think  of  sustaining 
it  with  material  fruits  and  goods  and  possessions,  is  as 
absurd  as  it  would  be  to  try  to  satisfy  the  hunger  of 
the  body  with  a  diamond,  or  to  quench  the  thirst  of  the 
body  with  a  pearl.     As  the  poet  has  expressed  it,  — 

"Attempt,  how  monstrous  and  how  surely  vain  ! 
With  things  of  earthly  sort,  with  aught  but  God, 
With  aught  but  moral  excellence,  truth,  and  love, 
To  satisfy  and  fill  the  immortal  soul. 
Attempt,  vain  inconceivably  !  attempt 


272  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

To  satisfy  the  ocean  with  a  drop, 

To  marry  immortality  to  death, 

And  with  the  unsubstantial  shade  of  time 

To  fill  the  embrace  of  all  eternity !  "  ^ 

This  was  the  folly  of  the  rich  man  here.  Let  us  take 
care  that  it  be  not  also  ours ;  for  "  God  has  made  us  for 
himself,  and  our  souls  must  be  ever  restless  till  they 
rest  themselves  in  him." 

But  now,  finally,  the  folly  of  this  rich  man  is  ap- 
parent from  the  fact  that  he  had  entirely  ignored  the 
truth  that  his  material  possessions  were  not  to  be  his 
forever.  When  the  decree  went  forth,  "  This  night  thy 
soul  shall  be  required  of  thee,"  he  could  not  prevent 
its  being  carried  out.  All  his  wealth  could  not  bribe 
the  death-messenger  that  came  to  summon  his  soul  into 
the  presence  of  its  God,  or  avail  to  lengthen  his  life  on 
earth  a  single  hour.  And  when  he  went,  he  could  not 
take  his  riches  with  him ;  for,  as  the  Spanish  proverb 
has  put  it  with  a  horrible  distinctness,  "  There  are  no 
pockets  in  a  shroud."  "  How  much  did  he  leave  ? " 
asked  one  man  of  another,  in  the  street-car,  as  they 
were  talking  of  a  millionnaire  whose  death  had  been  an- 
nounced in  the  morning  paper.  "  All  he  had,""  was  the 
solemn  and  suggestive  answer.  Let  these  two  things 
stand  out  in  lurid  distinctness  on  this  subject :  wealth 
cannot  buy  off  death,  and  when  we  die  we  can  take 
none  of  it  with  us ;  and  then  you  will  understand  how 
supremely  foolish  it  is  for  a  man  to  live  simply  and 
only  for  its  accumulation. 

But  another  thought  is  suggested  here.  Then 
"whose  shall  those  things  be  which  thou  hast  pro- 
vided ?  "   '  Ah,  me  !  if  some  of  those  wealthy  men  who 

A  PoUok's  Course  of  Time,  Book  IV. 


THE  FOOLISH  RICH  MAN.  273 

have  gone  in  recent  years  from  this  busy,  bustling  city, 
into  the  world  beyond,  could  come  back  for  a  moment, 
and  see  what  fiefhtincrs  there  have  been  over  their  for- 
tunes ;  how  the  details  of  their  own  idiosyncrasies  have 
been  dragged  out  into  the  light,  to  prove,  if  possible, 
that  they  had  not  sense  enough  to  make  their  wills  ; 
how  the  most  painful  secrets  of  their  lives  have  been 
proclaimed  upon  the  housetop ;  how  tlie  skeleton  in 
their  closet  has  been  handled  and  laughed  over  by 
the  profane  and  unfeeling  crowd ;  and  how  their  sons 
and  daughters  and  relations,  out  to  the  farthest  limit  of 
consanguinity,  have  wrangled  over  their  portions,  —  I 
think  they  would  say  within  themselves,  "What  con- 
summate fools  we  were,  to  spend  our  days  on  earth 
in  laying  up  treasures  to  be  squandered  thus  in  the 
courts,  and  to  be  quarrelled  over  by  a  hungry  crowd,  as 
wolves  howl  over  carrion  ! "  And  if  they  had  to  live 
again,  they  would  try,  I  think,  to  be  their  own  execu- 
tors, and  to  use  their  possessions  in  a  way  that  would 
bless  the  world  and  glorify  their  God.  There  has  been, 
as  I  cannot  help  tliinkiiig,  a  grim  irony  in  God's  provi- 
dence, in  cases  like  these  ;  and  as  I  read  the  reports  of 
the  surrogate's  court  from  time  to  time,  I  am  reminded 
of  the  words,  "  He  that  sitteth  in  the  heavens  shall 
lausfh :  the  Lord  shall  have  them  in  derision."  At  all 
events,  they  prove  conclusively  the  short-sightedness 
and  folly  of  those  whose  sole  delight  in  life  was  the 
adding  of  dollar  to  dollar.) 

But  a  deeper  thought  is  here  suggested :  "  Whose  shall 
those  things  be?"  Whose  were  they  all  along?  They 
were  God's,  and  should  have  been  used  for  God.U  You 
remember,  in  that  most  glorious  scene  in  David's  glori- 
ous reign,  when  he  brought  out  what  he  had  gatliered 
for  the  building  of  the  temple,  and  consecrated  it  all 


274  THE  P ARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

to  God,  and  bis  people  willingly  followed  his  example, 
lie  used  these  remarkable  words :  "  All  things  come  of 
thee,  and  of  thine  own  have  we  given  thee:  for  we 
are  strangers  and  sojourners,  as  were  all  our  fathers ; 
our  days  on  the  earth  are  as  a  shadow,  and  there  is 
none  abiding."  ^  Mark  the  force  of  that /or  in  this  con- 
nection. ^Men  come  and  go,  but  God  is  the  immortal 
owner  of  all  things ;  and  in  giving  to  him  of  our  posses- 
sions, we  but  give  him  of  his  own.  Friends,  if  there 
Avere  more  acknowledgment  of  that  truth  among  us, 
there  would  be  more  liberality  like  that  of  David,  and 
our  missionary  and  benevolent  societies  which  are  con- 
tinually laboring  in  the  rearing  of  the  great  spiritual 
temple  of  his  Church  Avould  not  be  so  often  in  straits 
with  their  balances  so  largely  on  the  wrong  side  of 
the  ledger.  Think  on  these  things,  I  beg  of  you,  and  the 
Lord  give  you  understanding  in  all  things. 

We  see  now  how  the  moral  of  this  story  is  estab- 
lished. "  So  is  he  that  heapeth  up  treasure  unto  him- 
self, and  is  not  rich  toward  God."  The  first  great  thing 
for  us  is  to  be  rich  toward  God ;  and  that  will  keep  us 
from  giving  undue  importance  to  earthly  treasure,  — 
nay,  it  will  teach  us  how  to  use  that  treasure,  and  show 
us  that  we  may  keep  it  best  by  spending  it  for  God. 
That  is  the  gist  of  the  whole  matter. 
(  I  ought  now,  therefore,  to  proceed  to  consider  the 
question  how  these  riches  toward  God  are  to  be  acquired 
and  increased.  Here,  however,  your  time  forbids  me 
to  enlarge.  James  gives  one  answer  when  he  speaks 
of  God  as  having  chosen  the  poor  of  this  Avorld  rich  in 
faith ;  ^  and  Paul  supplements  his  statement  when  he 
exhorts  Timoth}"  to  charge  them  that  are  rich  in  this 
world,  that  they  be  "  rich  in  good  works."  ^     Faith  in 

1  1  Chron.  xxix.  14,  15.  2  j^g.  ii.  5.  8  1  Tim.  vi.  18. 


4 


TnE  FOOLISH  men  MAN.  275 

Jesus  Christ  enriches  us,  by  giving  us  the  blessings  of 
forgiveness,  peace,  holiness,  and  heaven;  and  good 
works,  wrought  as  the  outcome  of  gratitude  for  these 
blessings,  enrich  us  with  present  happiness  and  future 
reward.  These  are  things  which  the  world  cannot  give 
or  take  away.  These  are  things  which  are  the  i:)0sses- 
sions  of  our  soul,  and  of  which  death  cannot  deprive 
us.  The  one  of  them  is  a  present  heaven,  and  the  other 
will  be  an  enrichment  of  the  heaven  that  is  in  the 
future,  jl^  Lay  up  these  treasures  for  yourself,  then,  for 
no  power  can  take  them  from  you.  And  if  you  make 
that  spiritual  accumulation  your  supreme  care,  covetous- 
ness  will  find  no  lurking-place  within  your  heart ;  for 
the  wealth  of  earth  will  be  valued  by  you  only  for  the 
good  works  which  it  will  give  you  the  means  of  per- 
forming, and  so  the  gold  that  is  material  and  uncertain 
may  become,  in  a  wondrous  way,  transmuted  into  the 
riclies  which  are  spiritual  and  abiding.  Here  is  some- 
thing better  than  the  philosopher's  stone,  for  it  turns 
material  gold  into  immortal  riches. 


276  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 


XVIII. 

THE   BARREN   FIG-TREE. 

(Luke  xiii.  6-9.) 

It  was  a  common  belief  among  the  Jews,  that  the 
comuig  of  special  calamities  on  a  man  was  a  proof  that 
he  had  been  guilty  of  peculiarly  aggravated  sin.  In 
s})ite  of  the  teaching  of  the  argument  of  the  Book  of 
Job  upon  the  subject,  that  doctrine  held  its  place  in 
the  popular  creed;  and  we  meet  with  it  on  more  than 
one  occasion  among  those  with  whom  our  Lord  came 
into  contact  in  his  public  ministry.  Nor  was  it  a  mere 
harmless  superstition  •  for  it  tended  to  generate,  in  the 
hearts  of  those  who  cherished  it,  both  uncharitable 
judgments  of  others,  and  Pharisaic  opinions  of  them- 
selves. If  they  who  specially  suffered  were  thereby 
proved  to  have  specially  sinned,  then  it  followed  that 
those  who  had  been  signally  exempt  from  calamity  were 
thereby  shown  to  be  particularly  excellent.  It  was 
therefore,  we  may  be  sure,  with  such  condemnation  of 
the  sufferers,  and  such  appreciation  of  themselves,  tliat, 
at  the  very  moment  when  the  Lord  was  upbraiding  his 
hearers  with  their  inability  to  discern  the  signs  of  the 
times,  certain  of  those  who  were  present  told  him  of 
the  massacre  by  Pilate  of  some  Galilseans,  while  they 
were  in  the  act  of  offering  sacrifice  in  the  court  of  the 
temple.  They  complacently  took  credit  to  themselves 
for  exemplary  holiness,  while  they  implied  that  the  vie- 


THE  BAliBEN  FIG-TREE.  277 

tims  of  Pilate's  cruelty  were  guilty  of  unusual  wicked- 
ness. But  the  Saviour  gave  them  to  understand  that 
in  all  this  they  were  only  confirming  his  statement  as 
to  their  inability  to  read  the  signs  of  the  times.  For 
those  unfortunate  worshippers  whom  Pilate  slew  had, 
in  a  very  true  sense,  died  for  the  nation.  Their  fate 
was  a  warning  of  that  awful  judgment  which  was  im- 
pending over  the  whole  people ;  and  the  same  thing 
was  true  of  those  who  had  been  killed  not  long  before 
in  Jerusalem,  by  the  falling  on  them  of  a  tower  in 
Siloam.  The  fact  w\ns,  that,  unless  they  repented,  they 
should  all  perish  "  likewise," —  not  simply  also,  but  in 
like  manner ;  for  Trench  ^  is  undoubtedly  right  when 
he  says  that  "  the  threat  is,  that  they  shall  literally  in 
like  wise  perish,"  and  adds,  "  Certainly  the  resemblance 
is  more  than  accidental  between  these  two  calamities 
here  adduced,  and  the  ultimate  destruction  which  did 
overtake  the  rebellious  Jews,  as  many  as  refused  to 
obey  the  Lord's  bidding  and  to  repent.  As  the  tower 
of  Siloam  fell,  and  crushed  eighteen  of  the  dwellers  at 
Jerusalem,  exactly  so  multitudes  of  its  inhabitants  were 
crushed  beneath  the  ruins  of  their  temple  and  their 
cily ;  and  during  the  last  siege  and  assault  of  that  city 
there  were  numbers  also  who  were  pierced  through  by 
lioman  darts,  or,  more  miserably  yet,  by  those  of  their 
own  frantic  factions,  in  tlie  courts  of  the  temple,  in  the 
very  act  of  pre})aring  their  sacrifices,  so  that  literally 
their  blood,  like  that  of  those  GalilfBans,  was  mingled 
with  their  sacrifices,  one  blood  with  another."  Thus, 
what  the  news-tellers  reported  as  evidence  of  aggra- 
vated wickedness  in  the  case  of  the  sufferers,  Jesus 
interpreted  as  a  warning  tt)  the  nation  as  a  whole  ;  and 
it  was   to   enforce   that   lesson    yet   more   plainly  and 

1  Notes  on  the  Parables,  pp.  34C,  347. 


278  TUE  PARABLES  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR. 

pointedly,  that  he  spoke  the  parable  of  the  barren 
fig-tree. 

It  runs  to  tliis  effect:  "A  certain  man  had  a  fig- 
tree  planted  in  his  vineyard ;  and  he  came  and  sought 
fruit  thereon,  and  found  none.  Then  said  he  unto  the 
dresser  of  his  vineyard,  Behold,  these  three  years  I 
come  seeking  fruit  on  this  fig-tree,  and  find  none ;  cut 
it  down ;  why  cumbereth  it  the  ground  ?  And  he 
answering  said  unto  him.  Lord,  let  it  alone  this  year 
also,  till  I  shall  dig  about  it,  and  dung  it:  and  if  it 
bear  fruit,  well ;  and  if  not,  then  after  that  thou  shalt 
cut  it  down." 

There  is  nothing  in  the  terms  of  this  simple  but 
solemn  allegory  requiring  minute  explanation.  It  was 
no  uncommon  thing  for  the  owner  of  a  vineyard  to 
j)lant  a  fig-tree  in  it;  and  the  expectation  that  it  should 
bear  fruit  there  was  warranted  by  the  exceptional  atten- 
tion which  was  bestowed  on  it  in  common  with  all 
within  such  an  enclosure. 

So,  again,  if  for  three  consecutive  years  after  it  had 
come  to  maturity,  such  a  tree  should  bear  no  fruit,  it 
might  fairly  be  accounted  barren,  and  would  be  removed, 
not  only  as  being  itself  useless,  but  also  as  taking  up 
ground  which  might  be  more  profitably  occupied  by 
something  else.  It  is  eas}^  therefore,  to  understand  why 
the  owner  of  the  vineyard  should  have  said  of  such 
a  tree,  "  Cut  it  down."  Nor  is  it  difficult  to  compre- 
hend the  feeling  which  would  urge  the  gardener  to  say, 
"Let  it  alone  this  year  also."  He  had  taken  great 
pains  with  it ;  he  had  done  for  it  all  that  he  could  think 
of:  and,  though  it  had  all  been  vain,  he  could  not  cut 
it  down  without  giving  it  another  chance.  So  he  begged 
for  it  one  more  year  of  grace,  during  which  he  would 
use  stronger  measures  than  ever ;  and,  if  these  should 


THE  BARREN  FIG-TREE.  279 

fail,  then  he  would  cut  it  down  without  compunction. 
It  is  all  very  natural.  It  might  have  been  a  conversa- 
tion last  autumn,  in  some  modern  garden  in  this  neigh- 
borhood, between  a  master  and  his  servant,  about  some 
particular  fruit-tree ;  and  yet,  natural  as  it  is,  it  is  used 
here  by  the  Saviour  as  a  symbol  of  the  most  solemn 
spiritual  truth. 

For,  taking  tlie  key  which  is  furnished  to  us  by  the 
occasion  on  which  the  parable  was  spoken,  the  interpre- 
tation is  easily  opened  up.  The  fig-tree  is  the  Jewish 
nation.  The  vineyard  is  the  enclosure  of  privilege, 
within  which  that  nation  was  secluded  from  all  others, 
and  which  insured  to  it  the  unspeakable  advantage  of 
a  revelation  from  God  through  the  prophets.  The 
coming  of  the  lord  of  the  vineyard,  seeking  fruit,  rep- 
resents the  Divine  expectation  of  holy  character  from 
the  people,  as  the  outcome  of  the  exceptional  position 
in  which  he  had  placed  them.  The  three  consecutive 
years  must  not  be  pressed  into  significance,  as  denoting 
any  special  epochs  in  Jewish  history,  or  as  designating 
the  years  of  our  Lord's  public  ministry.  Rather,  they 
represent  the  whole  course  of  the  history  of  Israel,  the 
results  of  which  were  spiritual  barrenness  and  Divine 
disappointment.  Then  came  the  fiat,  "  Cut  it  down  : 
why  curabereth  it  the  ground?"  which  symbolizes  the 
decree  for  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  and  the  removal 
of  the  Jews  from  their  vineyard  privileges,  preparatory 
to,  and  in  order  to,  the  calling  of  the  Gentiles.  But 
the  carrying  out  of  that  is  delayed  at  the  intercession 
of  the  vineyard-dresser,  who  represents  the  Lord  Jesus 
himself,  and  whose  mediation  secured  a  longer  day  of 
grace  for  the  Jews,  with  the  promise  of  his  concurrence 
in  their  doom,  if,  after  all,  they  should  be  still  unfruitful. 

The  primary  application  of  the  parable  is  thus  to  the 


280  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUB   SAVIOUR. 

Jewish  nation ;  and  the  exposition  which  I  have  just 
given  is  its  interpretation,  pro.  jrly  so  called.  But  the 
principles  which  underlie  that  .nterpretation  are  for  all 
time,  and  we  may  very  profitably  spend  the  remainder 
of  the  discourse  in  considering  their  bearing  on  our- 
selves. They  are,  briefly,  these :  That  much  will  be 
required  of  those  to  whom  much  has  been  given ;  that, 
if  those  to  whom  much  has  been  given  fail  to  meet  that 
which  is  required  of  them,  sentence  of  destruction  will 
be  pronounced  against  them ;  and  that,  though  the  exe- 
cution of  this  sentence  may  be  deferred  at  the  interces- 
sion of  Christ,  it  will  certainly  be  carried  out  if  there 
be  no  repentance  and  amendment  manifested. 

I.  Now,  looking  at  the  application  of  these  principles 
to  ourselves,  we  may  see,  in  the  first  place,  that  God 
has  placed  us  in  the  most  favorable  circumstances  for 
the  briugiug-forth  of  fruit.  The  j^rivileges  of  the  Jews 
were  small  in  comparison  with  those  which  we  enjoy. 
True,  they  had  the  oracles  of  God  ;  but  the  S3^stem 
under  wlucli  tliey  lived  was  mainly  typical,  prophetic, 
and  pre[)aratory.  God  manifested  himself  to  them,  but 
he  did  so  in  a  manner  that  was  shadowy  and  pictorial 
ratlier  than  substantial  and  real.  The  light  which  they 
enjoyed  Avas  that  of  the  early  dawn:  ours  is  that  of  the 
noonday  sun.  They  had  the  prophets,  we  have  the  Son 
of  God.  They  had  typical  sacrifices,  we  have  the  great 
propitiation.  They  had  a  temple  material  and  symbolical, 
we  have  the  temple  spiritual  and  true.  Let  any  one 
read  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews ;  and,  as  he  discovers 
how  point  after  point  is  made  by  the  writer  in  the 
course  of  his  demonstration  that  Cluist  is  the  mediator 
of  a  better  covenant,  which  was  established  on  better 
promises   than    that   of  Sinai,  he   will  understand  how 


TUE  BARREN  FIG-TREE.  281 

true  it  is,  that  our  privileges  are  as  much  greater  than 
those  of  the  Jews  of  cM,  as  those  of  the  Jews  were 
than  those  of  the  Gen -lies  by  whom  they  were  sur- 
rounded. 

Nor  is  this  all:  when  we  contrast  our  situation  in  tliis 
free  land  with  that  of  almost  all  the  other  nations  of 
the  earth,  even  at  the  present  day,  we  shall  see  reason 
to  conclude  that  no  people,  with  but  one  possible  excep- 
tion, enjoy  such  spiritual  advantages  as  those  which,  by 
the  favor  of  God,  we  here  possess.  The  children  here 
are  born  into  an  atmosphere  which  is  already  highly 
cliarged  with  Christianity.  They  have  the  best  educa- 
tional facilities.  The  Bible  is  early  in  their  hands. 
JNIany  of  them  are  trained  in  Christian  homes.  Still 
more  of  them  are  taught  in  Christian  Sunday  schools. 
There  are  no  legal  disabilities  attached  to  their  adlier- 
ence  to  Christianity.  It  is  not  a  crime,  as  it  has  some- 
times been  in  other  lands,  and  as  it  is  still  in  some,  to 
have  a  Bible.  We  have  absolute  liberty  of  worship; 
and  there  is  no  privilege  of  citizenship  depending  on  any 
form  of  religious  belief,  or  on  the  observance  of  any  par- 
ticular religious  ordinance.  Never  were  greater  Chris- 
tian advantages  enjoyed  by  any  people  than  we  now  and 
here  possess.  Truly  "  the  lines  have  fallen  unto  us  in 
pleasant  j)laces,  and  we  have  received  a  goodly  heri- 
tage." Surely,  if  God  could  say  with  truth,  in  that  age 
of  the  world's  history,  regarding  Israel,  "What  could 
have  been  done  more  to  my  vineyard  that  I  have  not 
done  in  it?"^  he  might  so  speak,  with  even  more  force, 
of  all  that  he  has  done  for  us.  We  glory  in  our  institu- 
tions. We  call  ourselves  the  envy  of  the  nations.  We 
fondly  regard  ourselves  as  the  pioneers  of  progress. 
But  let  us  never  forget  that  responsibility  is  propor- 
tional to  privilege. 

1  Isa.  V.  4. 


282  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

II.  For  God  expects  exceptional  fruit  from  a  tree  on 
which  he  has  bestowed  such  exceptional  advantages, 
and  that  is  the  second  point  to  which  I  would  here  give 
prominence.  If  we  have  so  much  more  than  other  na- 
tions, we  ought  to  be  just  so  much  better  than  they. 
For  the  fruit  in  this  case  is  that  of  character.  It  is 
commonly  supposed,  indeed,  that  fruitfulness  in  the 
Christian  life  is  to  be  shown  by  the  success  of  our  labors 
in  bringing  others  to  the  knowledge  and  acceptance  of 
Christ,  and  there  are  many  who  would  measure  Chris- 
tian fertility  simply  and  only  by  usefulness.  Now,  use- 
fulness is  exceedingly  valuable,  and  it  is  the  duty  and 
tlie  privilege  of  every  one  who  has  found  Christ  for 
himself,  to  bring  others  to  him  ;  but,  as  an  accurate  ex- 
pounder of  the  New  Testament,  I  cannot  allow  you  to 
rest  in  the  idea  that  usefulness  is  the  only  fruitfulness. 
This  point  is  so  important  that  I  must  ask  your  special 
attention  to  it.  Let  me  quote  to  you  a  few  passages 
where  the  word  "  fruit "  occurs  :  "  The  fruit  of  the  Spirit 
is  in  all  goodness  and  righteousness  and  truth  ;  "  "  The 
fruit  of  the  Spirit  is  love,  joy,  peace,  long-suffering,  gen- 
tleness, goodness,  faith,  meekness,  temperance  ;  "  "  Giv- 
ing all  diligence,  add  to  your  faith  virtue,  and  to  virtue 
knowledge,  and  to  knowledge  temperance,  and  to  tem- 
perance patience,  and  to  patience  godliness,  and  to  god- 
liness brotherly  kindness,  and  to  brotherly  kindness 
cluirity ;  for  if  these  tilings  be  in  you,  and  abound,  they 
make  you  that  ye  shall  neither  be  barren  nor  unfruitful 
in  the  knowledge  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  "  "  Ye  have 
your  fruit  unto  holiness."  ^  Now,  putting  all  these  to- 
gether, it  becomes  apparent  that  fruitfulness  is,  first 
and  before  all  things  else,  in  character,  in  holiness,  in 
what  we  are  rather  than  in  what  we  do,  and  only  in 

1  Gal.  V.  22,  23;  2  Pet.  i.  5-8;  Rom.  vi.  22. 


THE  BARREN  FIG-TREE.  283 

what  we  do  so  far  as  that  is  the  genuine  outcome  and 
spontaneous  revekition  of  what  we  are.  Usefuhiess  is 
the  result  of  character,  and  must  never  be  lost  sight  of ; 
but  character  is  first,  and  in  that  the  fruit  of  our  posi- 
tion in  God's  vineyard  is  chiefly  to  appear.  Rigltteous- 
ness,  meekness,  fidelity,  —  in  a  word,  moral  excellence 
springing  froni  our  faith  in  Christ  and  our  devotion  to 
him,  —  that  is  the  fruit  which  God  exj)ects  to  find  in  us 
as  the  occupants  of  his  vineyard.  Has  he  seen  that  in 
us?  or,  in  spite  of  all  our  privileges,  are  we  just  like 
other  people  in  other  lands,  —  selfish,  mammon-loving, 
unscrupulous,  unrighteous,  eager  to  take  advantage  of 
others,  and  seeking  only  to  please  and  profit  ourselves  ? 
The  question  is  all-important ;  for  on  the  answer  which 
must  be  given  to  it  will  depend  our  immortal  welfare 
as  individuals,  and  the  permanence  and  prosperity  of 
the  nation. 

III.  For  now  observe,  in  the  third  place,  that  God  pro- 
nounces sentence  of  destruction  on  all  wlio,  having  had 
such  privileges,  bring  forth  no  fruit.  In  his  discourse 
on  the  true  vine,  Jesus  says,  "  Every  branch  in  me  that 
bcareth  not  fruit  he  taketh  away ; "  and  again,  "If  a 
man  abide  not  in  me,  he  is  cast  forth  as  a  branch,  and  is 
withered ;  and  men  gather  them,  and  cast  them  into  the 
fire,  and  they  are  burned."  ^  So  again,  in  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount  we  have  these  words :  "  Every  tree  that 
bringeth  not  forth  good  fruit  is  hewn  down  and  cast 
into  the  fire."  ^  The  statement  is  unmistakable,  and  in 
the  providence  of  God  there  have  been  many  illustra- 
tions of  its  truth.  What  could  be  more  marked,  indeed, 
ill  tliis  connection,  than  the  case  of  the  Jews  themselves? 
They  were  the  people  of  God's  possession,  the  objects  of 

1  John  XV.  2,  6.  *  Matt.  vii.  19. 


284  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUB   SAVIOUR. 

his  j)eculiar  regard.  He  brought  them  out  of  the  land 
of  Egypt,  and  planted  them  in  Palestine  ;  he  sent  unto 
them  his  jirophets ;  he  trained  them  by  the  discipline  of 
his  providence  ;  he  dwelt  among  them  in  the  mystic  she- 
chinaft  glory  of  the  holy  of  holies.  If  ever  any  nation 
might  have  looked  for  exemption  from  the  operation  of 
a  law,  it  was  surely  that  of  the  Jews.  But  no,  they 
came  under  its  most  rigid  sweep ;  and  just  because  they 
had  received  so  much,  they  were  all  the  more  severely 
dealt  with  for  their  guilty  barrenness.  Their  temple 
was  razed  to  the  foundations,  their  capital  was  de- 
stroyed, their  country  was  given  to  others,  and  they 
themselves  were  scattered  among  the  nations,  even 
until  this  day. 

We  may  see  a  similar  instance  in  those  seven  Asiatic 
churches  to  whom  the  Book  of  Revelation  was  ad- 
dressed. They,  too,  had  rare  privileges  and  ample 
warning ;  but  they  failed  to  rise  to  their  responsibility, 
and  the  candlestick  of  each  has  long  since  been  taken 
out  of  its  place,  so  that  the  very  regions  which  they 
occupied  have  come  under  the  influence  of  Mohammed- 
anism, and  need  to  be  Cln-istianized  anew.  More  mod- 
ern instances  may  be  found  in  the  cases  of  those  lands 
which,  like  Spain,  Italy,  and  France,  refused  to  accept 
the  blessings  of  the  Reformation  when  it  was  in  their 
power  to  do  so,  and  have  been  contending  with  difficul- 
ties ever  since.  But  in  thinking  of  these  we  may  not 
forget  ourselves,  for  the  law  holds  of  individual  churches 
and  individual  men,  as  well  as  of  nations  ;  and  if  we  wish 
to  secure  permanent  prosperity  and  existence  as  a  con- 
gregation, we  must  remember  that  we  can  do  so  only  by 
maintaining  constant  fruitfulness  in  works  of  faith  and 
labors  of  love,  and  holiness  of  character.  When  these 
disappear,  and  barrenness  sets  in,  then  there  will  come 


THE  BARREN  FIG-TREE.  285 

the  sentence,  "  Cut  it  down."  The  history  of  the  past 
will  not  compensate  for  the  sterility  of  the  present. 
We  cannot  live  upon  a  reputation,  any  more  than  the 
Jews  could  save  themselves  because  they  were  able  to 
say,  "  We  have  Abraham  to  our  father."  The  church's 
life  depends  on  the  present  members  of  the  church,  and 
only  through  their  fruitfulness  can  its  permanence  be 
insured.  The  same  is  true  of  individuals.  When  they 
cease  to  grow,  they  cease  to  live ;  and  barrenness  is  at 
once  the  symptom  of  death,  and  the  reason  why  they  die. 

IV.  But  observe,  in  the  fourth  place,  that  this  sen- 
tence pronounced  on  the  barren  fig-tree  is  not  at  once 
carried  into  execution.  The  vine-dresser  interceded, 
and  the  lord  of  the  vineyard  acquiesced.  So  God 
has  forbearance  for  a  time,  even  toward  those  who  are 
doomed  to  destruction,  if  haply  they  may  yet  repent 
and  return  to  him.  The  flood  is  foretold  ;  but  between 
its  announcement  and  its  coming  a  hundred  and  twenty 
years  elapse,  during  all  of  which  God's  Spirit  is  striving 
with  man,  to  bring  him,  if  possible,  to  a  sense  of  his 
guilt  and  danger.  And  here,  in  the  case  of  the  Jewish 
nation,  even  after  their  crucifixion  of  the  Lord  Jesus, 
there  was  a  respite  of  forty  years,  during  which,  in  all 
the  power  of  their  Pentecostal  baptism,  the  apostles  and 
early  Christians  were  at  work  to  lead  them  to  repent- 
ance. Now,  it  is  an  interesting  fact  brought  out  here, 
that  for  all  such  respite  as  interposes,  in  any  case,  be- 
tween evil  desert  and  its  immediate  punishment,  men 
are  indebted  to  the  intercession  of  Christ.  If  he  had 
not  been  provided  as  the  Lamb  slain  from  the  founda- 
tion of  the  world,  the  race  would  have  died  when  Adam 
sinned  ;  and  it  is  a  solemn  thought,  that  the  continued 
existence  even  of  those  who  ridicule  his  love,  and  bias- 


286  THE  P ARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

pheme  his  name,  is  due  to  the  intercession  of  Him  whom 
they  revile. 

But  a  respite  or  reprieve  is  not  a  pardon.  It  is  only 
a  postponement ;  yet,  because  it  is  a  postponement,  men 
are  apt  to  think  that  God  has  lost  sight  of  them,  and 
will  not  hold  them  to  an  account.  Thus  the  forbear- 
ance of  God  is  misinterpreted  as  if  it  were  indifference, 
and  the  sinner  under  it  is  tempted  to  go  more  reck- 
lessly into  wickedness.  If,  when  a  man  is  in  the  act  of 
committing  his  first  theft,  some  unusual  thing  were  to 
happen,  and  the  thief  were  to  be  surprised  into  the  ac- 
knowledgment of  God's  omniscience,  he  would  regard 
that  as  a  Divine  interposition  ;  but  because  nothing  like 
that  occurs,  he  takes  the  absence  of  it  as  an  evidence  of 
the  Divine  indifference.  So  men  judge  of  God  as  if  he 
were  such  an  one  as  themselves;  and  "-because  sentence 
against  an  evil  work  is  not  executed  speedily,  the 
hearts  of  the  children  of  men  are  fully  set  in  them  to 
do  evil."  ^  But  there  is  no  Divine  indifference  in  the 
case.  The  stroke  of  justice  is  only  arrested  for  a 
season,  and  its  arrest  is  due  to  the  mediation  of  the 
great  High  Priest.  Take  care,  therefore,  lest  you  fall 
into  the  mistake  made  by  those  of  whom  Peter  speaks,^ 
who,  because  all  things  continued  as  they  had  been, 
leaped  to  the  conclusion  that  they  would  always  be  as 
they  were,  and  so  regarded  that  forbearance  which  was 
meant  to  give  space  for  repentance  as  an  actual  mani- 
festation of  indifference,  if  not  even  of  approval.  But 
there  is  no  indifference ;  and  if  the  fruitless  man  repent 
not,  the  day  of  the  Lord  will  come  to  him  also  as  a 
thief  in  the  night,  and  he  will  suddenly  be  destroyed, 
and  that  without  remedy.^ 

1  Eccles.  viii.  ii,  2  2  Pet.  iii.  3-10.  8  Piov.  xxix.  1. 


TUB  BARREN  FIG-TREE.  287 

For  the  guilt  after  such  forbearance,  and  against  it, 
-will  be  greater  than  it  was  before,  inasmuch  as,  with  the 
addition  of  the  day  of  grace,  there  is  combined  an  in- 
crease in  the  efforts  on  the  part  of  the  vine-dresser  to 
promote  fertility.  Mr.  Arnot,  whose  own  early  labors 
make  him  a  specially  good  authority  here,  has  written 
thus:  "The  two  chief  applications  emploj^ed  in  hus- 
bandry to  stimulate  growth  and  fruitfulness  are  digging 
and  manuring.  These,  accordingly,  the  dresser  of  the 
vineyard  undertakes  to  apply,  in  the  interval,  to  the 
barren  fig-tree.  I  think  something  may  be  gained  here 
by  descending  into  particulars.  One  of  these  agricul- 
tural operations  imparts  to  the  tree  the  elements  of 
fruitfulness,  and  the  other  enables  the  tree  to  make 
these  elements  its  own.  Digging  gives  nothing  to  the 
tree,  but  it  makes  openings  whereby  gifts  from  another 
quarter  may  become  practically  available.  The  fertil- 
izer contains  the  food  which  the  plant  must  receive  and 
assimilate,  and  convert  into  fruit ;  but  if  the  hardened 
earth  were  not  made  loose  by  digging,  the  needed 
aliment  would  never  reach  its  destination.  Similar  pro- 
cesses are  applied  in  the  spiritual  culture.  Certain  dig- 
gings take  place  around  and  among  the  roots  of  barren 
sftuls,  as  well  as  of  barren  fig-trees.  Bereavements  and 
trials  of  various  kinds  strike  and  rend,  but  these  cannot 
by  themselves  renew  and  sanctify.  The}'  may  give  pain, 
but  cannot  impart  fertility;  the  spirit,  much  distressed, 
may  be  as  unfruitful  as  the  spirits  that  are  at  ease  in 
Zion.  These  rendings,  however,  are  most  precious  as 
the  means  of  opening  a  wa}''  whereby  the  elements  of 
si)iritual  life  conveyed  by  the  Word  and  Spirit  may 
reach  their  destination.  The  Lord  who  pours  in  the 
food  for  the  sustenance  of  a  soul  stirs  that  soul  l)y  his 
providence,  so  that  grace  may  reach  the  root  and  be 


288  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

taken  in."  ^  But  if,  after  all  that,  the  soul  still  refuses 
to  unite  itself  to  Christ,  of  course  its  guilt  is  all  the 
heavier;  and  then  comes  the  limit  of  forbearance,  be- 
yond which  there  is  neither  respite  nor  remedy. 

V.  That  is  the  last  lesson  in  the  parable.  May  God 
enable  us  to  lay  it  well  to  heart !  If  you  ask  me  where 
precisely  that  limit  of  forbearance  is,  I  cannot  tell. 
The  great  truth  is,  that  there  is  such  a  limit;  and  it 
ought  to  be  our  effort  to  keep  away  from  it  as  far  as 
possible.  But  how  shall  we  do  that?  How  better  than 
by  turning  now  in  repentance  and  faith  to  God  by 
Jesus  Christ,  and  so  becoming  part  and  parcel  of  the 
true  and  living  vine,  whereof  he  says,  "  I  am  the  vine ; 
ye  are  the  branches  "  ?  Do  not  tempt  the  Lord  by  put- 
ting his  forbearance  to  the  test,  as  if  you  would  see  how 
far  and  how  long  it  will  stretch ;  but  go  at  once,  and 
show  that  you  account  that  "  the  long-suffering  of  God 
is  salvation,"  and  so  the  goodness  of  God  will  lead 
you  to  repentance.  It  is  not  yet  too  late.  As  the 
good,  mild  Leighton  has  expressed  it,  "  Any  of  you  that 
are  stirred  to  any  real  desires  of  fruitfulness  to  him,  I 
dare  give  you  warrant  to  be  confident  of  his  not  only 
forbearing  upon  such  a  desire,  but  of  his  favorably  ac- 
cepting of  it  as  a  good  sign,  yea,  as  already  a  begin- 
ning of  fruit.  But  in  case  of  people  remaining  barren 
after  all,  the  end  will  be  to  be  cut  down.  And  to  every 
fruitless  and  godless  person  amongst  you,  it  is  not  long 
to  that  day :  it  will  be  upon  you  ere  you  are  aware. 
As  John  preached,  '  the  axe  is  laid  to  the  root  of  the 
tree  ;  therefore  every  tree  that  bringeth  not  forth  good 
fruit  is  hewn  down,  and  cast  into  the  fire.'  God  is  tak- 
ing his  axe,  as  it  were,  and  fetching  his  stroke  at  you ; 

1  Arnot  on  the  Parables,  pp.  385,  386. 


THE   BAnnEN   EW-TREE.  289 

and  you  know  not  how  soon  it  may  light,  and  j'ou  be 
cut  down,  and  cut  off  from  all  hopes  forever,  never  to 
see  a  day  of  grace  more ;  cut  down,  and  cast  into  the 
fire  to  burn,  and  that  never  to  end.  Oh  for  some  soul 
to  be  rescued,  were  it  even  now !  Oh,  to-day,  to-day,  if 
ye  will  hear  his  voice,  harden  not  your  hearts  !  "  ^  Obey 
that  call,  my  brethren,  and  joii  need  not  trouble  your- 
selves about  the  precise  position  of  the  limit  of  God's 
forbearance ;  for  thereby  you  will  pass  at  once  within 
the  circle  of  his  complacency. 

1  Leightou's  works,  Nelson's  edition,  p.  547. 


290  TUE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 


XIX. 

THE  GREAT  SUPPER. 

(Luke  xiv.  16-24.) 

This  parable  had  its  occasion  in  the  remark  of  one, 
who,  with  a  number  of  like-minded  friends,  had  been 
invited  to  meet  the  Saviour,  at  the  table  of  one  of  the 
chief  Pharisees,  on  the  sabbath  day.  It  seemed  a 
courteous  kindness  to  the  Lord,  to  ask  him  to  eat  bread 
with  such  a  company ;  and  yet  the  spirit  at  once  of  the 
host  and  of  the  guests  is  revealed  by  the  Evangelist  in 
these  words :  "  it  came  to  pass  .  .  .  that  they  watched 
him."  They  were  not  only  curious  to  see  what  he 
would  do,  and  to  hear  what  he  would  say ;  but  they 
were  also  on  the  alert  to  take  advantage  of  any  thing 
out  of  which  they  might  manufacture  some  accusation 
against  him.  But  the  Lord,  with  that  divine  tact 
which  he  invariably  manifested,  began  the  attack  him- 
self, and,  instead  of  contenting  himself  with  acting  on 
the  defensive,  boldly  showed  them  to  themselves  with 
such  unsparing  fidelity,  that  they  were  utterly  over- 
thrown. Thus  when  a  poor,  diseased  marw  came  in, 
and  made  mute  appeal  for  healing,  he  did  not  wait  to 
be  criticised,  but  "  taking  the  bull  by  the  horns,"  asked, 
"  Is  it  lawful  to  heal  on  the  sabbath  day  ?  "  and  when 
no  one  ventured  to  speak,  he  at  once  proceeded  to  cure 
the  afflicted  one,  and  sent  him  away  rejoicing.  Then, 
marking  the  jealousies  which  came  out  in  their  contend- 


THE  GREAT  SUPPER.  291 

ings  for  precedence  at  the  table,  he  read  them  a  lecture 
on  their  conduct,  and  commended  to  them  that  humility 
which  was  willing  to  take  the  lowest  place,  so  that, 
when  moved  at  all,  it  was  moved  only  to  a  higher. 
After  that,  glancing  at  the  appearance  of  the  guests, 
and  perceiving  that  they  all  belonged  to  the  upper  class 
of  the  population,  he  recommended  them,  when  they 
made  a  banquet,  to  invite  those  who  could  not  ask  them 
to  their  tables  in  return,  and  to  look  for  their  recom- 
j^ense  "  at  the  resurrection  of  the  just."  Thus  he  dis- 
armed criticism,  and  silenced  opposition,  by  addressing 
himself  directly  to  the  conscience :  thereby  setting  an 
example  Avliich  might  be  profitably  followed  by  his 
ministers,  when  they  find  themselves  before  an  audience 
that  is  watching  for  an  opportunity  to  trip  them  up ; 
for  conscience  rightly  addressed  is  always  on  the  side  of 
the  preacher,  and  helps  him  to  a  victory. 

In  the  present  instance,  all  that  came  out  of  the 
antagonism  of  his  adversaries  was  an  empty  common- 
place, apparently  in  harmony  with  what  he  had  been 
saying,  but  really  no  more  than  a  bit  of  conversational 
padding,  designed  to  fill  up  a  somewhat  painful  pause, 
and  meaning  notliing  in  particular.  Jesus  had  said, 
that  if  they  invited  to  their  feasts  the  poor,  the  maimed, 
the  lame,  and  the  blind,  they  should  be  recompensed 
at  the  resurrection  of  the  just ;  and  the  feeble  outcome 
was,  that  one  of  his  hearers  exclaimed,  "  Blessed  is 
he  that  shall  eat  bread  in  the  kingdom  of  God."  He 
said  nothing,  you  observe,  of  the  condition  on  which 
the  Lord  had  declared  that  they  would  be  recompensed, 
but  contented  himself  witli  a  fervent  ejaculation  about 
the  happiness  of  those  who  should  feast  in  the  kingdom 
of  God  ;  much  as  if  one,  on  hearing  a  present  duty  faith- 
fully enforced,  should  indulge  in  a  fervent  outburst 


292  THE  PARAliLES   OF  QUE   SAVIOUR. 

about  the  blessedness  of  lieaven.  It  was  pure  seiiti- 
mentalism,  holy  humbug,  or  —  to  use  the  expressive 
modern  word  —  absolute  cant.  The  man  was  talking 
nbout  that  of  which  he  knew  nothing.  The  kingdom 
of  God,  in  his  view,  was  eating  and  drinking;  and  there 
was  Avithal  no  doubt  in  his  mind  that  he  would  be  in  it. 
But  then,  it  was  still  a  long  way  off;  and  this  flourish 
about  its  blessedness  might  turn  the  current  of  conver- 
sation away  from  the  disagreeable  channel  in  which  it 
had  been  flowing. 

Instead  of  that,  however,  it  only  furnished  occasion 
for  the  utterance  of  this  parable,  which  went  still 
deeper  in  than  any  thing  that  had  gone  before,  and 
showed  to  the  whole  company  the  nature  of  the  privi- 
leges which  they  were  at  the  moment  enjoying,  and  the 
magnitude  of  the  danger  in  which  there  and  then  they 
were  standing.-  This  man  had  spoken  of  the  kingdom 
of  God,  as  if  its  coming  were  not  to  be  until  the  resur- 
rection of  the  just ;  but  Jesus  shows  him  that  it  had 
come  already,  and  that,  while  they  were  praising  its 
blessedness  in  the  future,  they  were  desjjising  its  invi- 
tations in  the  present.  He  had  also  complacently  taken 
it  for  granted,  that  he  would  be  at  the  banquet  of  the 
kingdom ;  and  Jesus  warns  him  that  they  who  rejected 
its  invitations  would  never  taste  its  provision. 

Thus  this  also  is  a  parable  of  warning  like  that  of  the 
barren  fig-tree  ;  and  it  has  in  it,  besides,  a  predictive  ele- 
ment, foretelling,  as  it  does,  not  only  the  rejection  of  the 
Jews,  but  also  the  calling  of  the  Gentiles.  In  many  of 
its  features,  it  bears  a  strong  resemblance  to  the  parable 
of  the  royal  marriage-feast,  contained  in  the  twenty- 
second  chapter  of  the  Gospel  by  Matthew,  which  we 
have  already  considered  ;  but  they  are  clearly  distinct. 
lu  both,  indeed,  the  gospel  blessings  are  symbolized  by 


THE  GREAT  SUPPER.  293 

a  feast,  to  wliicli  men  are  invited,  and  from  ■\vliicli  llicy 
rudely  absent  tliemselves.  But  this  was  spoken  at  an 
early  date  in  the  Saviour's  ministry :  that^  in  the  very 
Passion  Week.  This,  as  we  have  seen,  was  addressed 
to  the  guests  at  a  feast :  that,  probably,  in  the  temple,  to 
the  multitude.  In  this,  the  invited  ones  are  content  with 
making  excuses  :  in  that,  they  treat  the  messengers  with 
violence.  In  this,  the  despisers  of  the  invitation  are 
merely  excluded :  in  that,  they  are  destroyed,  and  their 
city  burned.  When  this  was  spoken,  the  antagonism 
to  the  Lord  had  not  gained  such  headway  as  it  had 
acquired  when  that  was  uttered,  and  so  it  has  a  milder 
aspect  than  the  other;  while  the  episode  of  the  man 
without  the  wedding  garment  has  here  no  place. 
Clearly,  then,  though  similar,  they  are  distinct;  and 
therefore  we  may  be  able  to  bring  out  the  character- 
istic features  of  that  now  before  us,  without  going 
over  ground  which  we  have  already  traversed. 

The  story  may  be  briefly  told  as  follows :  A  wealthy 
inhabitant  of  a  great  city  made  preparations  for  a  splen- 
did feast,  to  which,  after  the  fashion  of  the  country,  he 
invited  many  of  his  fellow-citizens  some  time  before 
the  day  which  had  been  fixed  for  its  celebration.  But 
when  the  set  time  came,  and  the  servant  Avas  again  sent 
forth  to  remind  them  of  the  feast,  those  who  had  been 
invited  made  most  frivolous  excuses,  and  declined  to 
come ;  whereupon  the  lord  of  the  banquet  indignantly 
sent  his  servant  out  to  bring  in  from  the  streets  and 
lanes  the  poor,  and  the  maimed,  and  the  halt,  and  the 
blind;  and  when  these  were  not  sufticient  to  fill  the 
tables,  he  commissioned  him  to  go  forth  again,  this  time 
outside  of  the  city  altogether,  to  the  highways  and 
hedges,  and  to  bring  in  all  Avhom  he  could  find,  that 
the  house  might  be  crowded ;  adding,  —  and  in  this  we 


294  THE  P ARABLE 8  OF  OUR  SAVIOUR. 

have  tlie  pith  of  the  story,  —  "I  say  unto  you,  That 
none  of  those  men  which  were  bidden  shall  taste  of  my 
supper."  Now,  let  us  attend  to  the  interpretation ; 
and,  that  we  may  not  repeat  what  we  have  already  said 
on  the  parable  of  the  marriage-feast,  we  shall  take  it 
under  a  series  of  separate  particulars. 

I.  There  is,  first,  the  feast.  This  is  the  gospel  which 
God  has  provided  for  mankind  sinners.  Great  prepara- 
tion had  to  be  made  before  it  was  available  for  men. 
The  law  which  we  had  broken  had  to  be  satisfied ;  the 
penalty  which  we  had  incurred  had  to  be  endured ;  the 
obedience  in  which  we  had  failed  had  to  be  rendered. 
None  of  these  things,  however,  could  be  done  by  man 
for  himself.  To  accomplish  them,  therefore,  it  was 
needed  that  the  second  in  the  glorious  Trinity  should 
take  human  nature  into  union  with  his  deity,  should 
tabernacle  for  a  season  on  the  earth,  should  be  crucified 
and  buried,  should  rise  again  from  the  dead,  and  enter 
into  glory ;  and  it  was  on  the  ground  of  the  perfection 
and  infinite  sufficiency  of  the  work  of  this  our  Substi- 
tute, that  the  invitation  went  forth,  "  Come,  for  all 
things  are  now  ready."  This  was  the  preparation,  and 
the  gospel  thus  procured  for  us  is  a  feast. 

It  is  so  in  respect  of  the  excellence  of  the  provision 
which  it  sets  before  us.  Pardon  of  sin,  favor  with  God, 
peace  of  conscience,  renewal  of  the  heart,  access  to  the 
throne  of  grace,  the  comforts  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  the 
exceeding  great  and  precious  promises  of  the  Scriptures, 
and  a  well-grounded  hope  of  eternal  life,  —  these  are 
the  blessings  which  crown  the  gospel  board,  and  they 
are  absolutely  invaluable. 

It  is  a  feast  in  respect  of  abundance,  for  the  supply 
is  inexhaustible.     On  one  men:iorable  occasion  of  which 


THE  GREAT  SUPPER.  295 

we  read,  the  wine  began  to  fail ;  and  there  have  been 
repeated  instances  among  men,  where  the  number  of 
the  guests  has  more  than  exhausted  the  provision  wliicli 
had  been  made  for  their  entertainment :  but  that  has 
never  happened,  can  never  happen,  here.  Numbers 
Avithout  number  have  already  partaken  of  these  precious 
blessings;  but  they  are  still  as  abundant  as  they  were 
at  first,  for,  like  the  bread  that  came  from  the  hand  of 
Christ  upon  the  mountain-side,  they  multiply  with  the 
multitudes  that  need  them,  and,  after  all,  there  will  be 
something  over.  In  our  Father's  house  there  is  not 
merely  bread  enough,  but  there  is  always  bread  "  to 
spare." 

It  is  a  feast  in  respect  of  fellowship.  ]\Ien  do  not 
make  a  banquet  for  solitary  enjo3anent,  but  that  tliey 
may  have  the  society  of  others  with  them  while  they 
partake  of  its  rarities.  And  it  is  not  otherwise  here. 
The  blessings  of  the  gospel  are  for  social,  and  not 
simply  for  private,  life ;  and  what  circle  of  earthly 
friends  can  be  put  into  comparison  with  that  into 
which  we  enter  when  we  seat  ourselves  at  the  gospel 
table  ?  There  we  have  communion,  not  only  with  the 
best  and  wisest  of  earth,  but  with  the  redeemed  before 
the  throne;  for 

"  The  saints  on  earth,  and  all  the  dead, 
But  one  communion  make  ; 
All  join  to  Christ,  their  living  Head, 
And  of  his  grace  partake." 

We  sit  down  here  with  Abraham  and  Isaac  and  Jacob, 
in  the  kingdom  of  our  Father;  yea,  our  fellowship  is 
witli  the  Father,  and  with  his  Son  Jesus  Christ. 

Finally,  it  is  a  feast  in  respect  of  joy.  The  giver  of  it 
and  the  guests  at  it  rejoice  together.     The  great  Father 


296  THE  PAYABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

says  of  eacli  redeemed  sinner  there,  "  Tliis  my  son  was 
dead,  and  is  alive  again ;  was  lost,  and  is  found."  The 
Divine  Son  sees  "  of  the  travail  of  his  soul,  and  is  sat- 
isfied." The  Holy  Spirit  delights  in  the  presence  of 
those  whom  he  has  renewed  and  sanctified.  And  the 
joy  of  each  guest  in  the  possession  of  the  blessings  set 
before  him  is  redoubled  by  the  gladness  of  all  the  rest ; 
for  "  true  grace  hates  all  monopolies,  and  loves  not  to 
eat  its  morsels  alone,"  but  rejoices  in  the  number  of 
those  who  with  it  are  participators  in  the  bounty  of 
God. 

Truly,  then,  may  the  gospel  be  symbolized  as  a 
feast;  and  as  we  look  upon  the  provision  which  God 
has  made  for  all  our  spiritual  wants  in  Christ,  we  may 
see  the  fulfilment  of  the  ancient  oracle :  "  And  in  this 
mountain  shall  the  Lord  of  hosts  make  unto  all  people 
a  feast  of  fat  things,  a  feast  of  wines  on  the  lees  ;  of  fat 
things  full  of  marrow,  of  wines  on  the  lees  well  re- 
fined." 

II.  But  now  let  us  look,  secondly,  at  the  invited 
guests.  In  the  parable,  the  servant  sent  with  the  first 
invitation  stands  as  the  representative  of  all  those  who 
were  commissioned  in  God's  name  and  on  his  behalf  to 
the  Jews,  to  prepare  them  for  the  advent  of  the  Messiah. 
We  must  not  restrict  the  reference  either  to  John  the 
Baptist,  or  to  any  one  of  the  prophets,  but  must  regard 
it  as  including  all  who  in  any  way  pointed  the  Jews  to 
the  coming  Deliverer  as  "  the  Lamb  of  God,"  who  was 
to  take  "  aAvay  the  sin  of  the  world."  The  servant  sent 
at  supper-time  to  say  to  the  invited  guests  that  all 
things  were  now  ready  is  clearly  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
himself,  whom,  when  the  fulness  of  the  time  was  come, 
"  God  sent  forth,  made  of  a  woman,  made  under  the 


THE  CHEAT  SUrPETi.  297 

law,  to  redeem  tlieiii  lliat  were  under  the  law."  ^  And 
when  the  more  influential  of  the  Jewish  nation  ignored 
this  invitation,  the  servant  sent  forth  to  the  poor  and 
maimed  and  halt  and  blind,  in  the  streets  and  lanes  of 
the  city,  represents  the  Lord  Christ  and  his  apostles, 
who  turned  to  the  outcast  and  neolected  classes  among: 
the  Jews,  —  the  publicans  and  sinners,  —  after  their 
message  had  been  repudiated  by  the  spiritual  rulers  of 
the  people ;  while  he  who  was  commissioned  to  go  out 
to  the  highways  and  hedges  outside  of  the  city,  and 
instructed  to  compel  those  whom  he  found  there  to 
come  in,  symbolizes  the  first  preachers  of  the  gospel 
to  tlie  Gentiles.  The  gospel  was  thus  proclaimed  first 
to  the  officials  of  the  Jewish  nation,  next  to  the  out- 
cast and  degraded  among  the  Jews,  and  finally  to  the 
Gentiles ;  and  the  fulfilment,  or  exposition  proper,  of 
this  part  of  the  parable,  may  be  recognized  in  a  moment 
by  every  intelligent  reader  of  the  book  of  the  Acts  of 
the  Apostles. 

But  while  this  is  the  literal  interpretation  of  the  par- 
able, the  point  whicli  it  is  most  important  for  us  now  to 
remember  is,  that  the  invitation  to  this  feast  is  given 
to  every  one  in  whose  hearing  the  gospel  is  proclaimed. 
That  is  a  great  privilege ;  but  it  is  also,  as  we  see,  a 
great  peril,  and  it  becomes  us  to  realize  at  once  the 
advantage  and  the  responsibility  of  the  position  in 
which  we  stand.  We  have  received  this  invitation, 
"  ComC;  for  all  things  are  now  ready."  To  us  also  it  is 
said,  "  Yet  tliere  is  room  ; "  and  on  us  have  been  put 
forth  all  tliose  sweetly  constraining  influences  which 
arc  designed  to  "  compel  "  men  "  to  come  in."  This, 
therefore,  is  not  a  matter  of  mere  anti(iuariau  interest, 

1  Gal.  iv.  4,  5. 


298  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUll   SAVIOUTl. 

or  of  curious  exegetical  importance.  It  concerns  our 
own  spiritual  and  immortal  welfare ;  for,  though  the 
invitation  is  given  through  the  instrumentality  of  a 
sarvant,  —  the  preacher,  —  it  comes  from  the  great  God 
himself;  and,  on  that  account,  it  is  not  to  be  trilied 
with,  or  despised.  In  the  court  language  of  Great 
Britain,  when  a  subject  receives  an  invitation  to  the 
royal  table,  it  is  said  that  her  Majesty  "  commands  "  his 
presence  there.  And,  similarly,  the  invitations  of  the 
King  of  kings  to  his  gospel  banquet  are  commands, 
the  ignoring  of  which  constitutes  the  most  aggravated 
form  of  disobedience.  What,  then,  shall  we  do  with  this 
invitation?  That  is  for  us  the  most  im2;)ortant  of  all 
questions,  and  ought  to  have  our  earliest  and  most 
devoted  attention ;  for  it  is  an  invitation  from  God,  and 
our  answer  must  be  given  to  him.  Remember,  then, 
that  we  have  been  bidden  to  this  great  feast ;  and  that 
will  raise  in  your  view  the  interpretation  of  this  par- 
able, from  a  question  of  curious  exj)osition,  up  to  one 
of  personal  and  eternal  importance. 

III.  This  leads  me,  however,  in  the  third  place,  to 
look  at  the  reception  given  by  those  first  invited,  to  the 
call  which  had  been  addressed  to  them.  "  They  all 
with  one  consent  began  to  make  excuse."  There  had 
been  no  previous  understanding  between  them.  They 
did  not  act  as  they  did,  in  consequence  of  any  precon- 
certed agreement  amonsr  themselves.  The  Avord  "con- 
sent,"  as  you  observe,  is  not  in  the  original ;  and  its 
introduction  here  is  apt  to  convey  an  erroneous  impres- 
sion. The  meaning  rather  is,  that,  animated  by  one 
spirit,  moved  by  one  impulse,  under  the  influence  of  the 
same  disposition,  they  all  began  to  make  excuse.  What 
that  spirit  was,  is  very  clear.     Each  of  them  considered 


THE  GREAT  SUPPEB.  299 

some  worldly  thing  as  of  more  importance  to  him  than 
the  enjoyment  of  the  feast;  and  that  is  just  saying,  in 
another  way,  that  tliey  all  treated  the  invitation  as  a 
matter  of  no  moment.  They  did  not  think  it  worth 
their  wliile  to  put  themselves  to  any  inconvenience  for 
its  acceptance.  By  a  little  forethought,  each  of  them 
might  have  made  such  arrangements  as  would  have 
enabled  him  to  go ;  and,  if  they  had  cared  to  be  pres- 
ent, they  might  all  have  been  there  with  ease.  But 
the  real  truth  was,  that  they  did  not  care  to  be  pres- 
ent ;  and  that  was  the  secret  explanation  of  their  con- 
duct. These  excuses,  therefore,  were  all  pretexts.  They 
were  statements  of  what  was  true,  but  they  did  not 
give  a  true  statement  of  the  whole  case.  These  men 
did  not  go  to  the  feast,  simply  because  they  did  not 
care  to  go.  They  were  in  the  position  of  those  Jews 
to  whom  the  Lord  himself  said,  "  Ye  tvill  not  come  unto 
me,  that  ye  might  have  life."  For,  if  they  had  really 
desired  to  go,  none  of  the  things  here  mentioned  would 
have  kept  them  away.  Perhaps  they  deluded  them- 
selves into  the  belief  that  they  were  acting  in  good 
faith ;  but  if  they  had  gone  deeper  down  into  tlieir 
hearts,  they  would  have  found  that  they  were  deceiving 
themselves,  and  putting  forth  as  excuses  things,  which, 
if  they  had  been  earnestly  determined  to  go  to  the  feast, 
would  not  have  kept  them  for  a  moment. 

And  their  self-delusion,  if  it  were  so,  was  all  the  more 
insidious  because  the  things  which  they  alleged  in  excuse 
were  all  proper  enough  in  themselves,  and  such  as,  when 
kept  in  their  own  places,  no  fault  coukl  be  found  witli. 
There  was  no  harm  in  going  to  see  a  piece  of  ground 
which  one  had  bouglit,  or  in  proving  in  liarncss  five 
yoke  of  oxen  which  one  had  purchased ;  and  the  law 
of  Moses  gave   exemption   from   liability   to   military 


300  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

service  to  a  man  for  a  year  after  liis  marriage.  But, 
allowing  each  of  these  its  due  importance,  could  any  of 
them  for  a  moment  be  put  into  comparison  with  the 
invitation  to  this  banquet?  The  proving  of  the  oxen, 
and  the  seeing  of  the  piece  of  ground,  might  well 
enough  have  been  postponed  till  another  day ;  and  no 
bride,  worthy  of  the  name,  would  have  objected  to  the 
absence  of  her  husband  for  such  a  great  occasion. 
Therefore  it  is  manifest,  that,  though  the  statements 
made  might  all  be  perfectly  true,  they  were  still  frivo- 
lous, and  altogether  inadequate  as  excuses,  betokening 
that  those  who  made  them  were  wedded  to  other  things, 
and  cared  nothing  either  for  the  banquet  or  its  lord. 
Hence  we  conclude  that  this  part  of  the  parable  must 
be  read  in  connection  with  the  twenty-sixth  verse  of 
this  chapter,  which  almost  immediately  follows  it :  "  If 
any  man  come  to  me,  and  hate  not  his  father  and  his 
mother,  and  wife  and  children  and  brethren  and  sisters, 
yea,  and  his  own  life  also,  he  cannot  be  mj-  disciple." 
Jesus  will  have  the  whole  heart.  If  therefore,  it  is 
set  on  any  thing  else,  it  cannot  be  given  up  to  him ; 
and  every  excuse  that  is  offered  for  withholding  it, 
whether  the  excuse  in  itself  be  true,  or  not,  does  not 
give  the  real  reason  for  his  rejection.  That  must  be 
sought  in  the  fact  that  the  heart  is  set  on  something 
else,  which  it  is  not  willing  to  part  with,  even  for  him. 
It  is  the  old  story.  "  One  thing  thou  laekest ;  "  but  that 
one  thing  is  every  thing,  for  it  is  the  love  of  the  heart. 
Let  us  see  to  it,  therefore,  that  we  keep  the  heart  for 
Christ ;  for  unless  we  give  him  that,  we  shall  never  taste 
of  his  supper. 

IV.  But  we  are  thus  brought  to  the  fourth  thing  sug- 
gested by  this  parable  ;  namely,  that  those  who  persist- 


THE  GREAT  SUPPER.  301 

ently  decline  to  come  to  the  feast  shall  be  forever  ex- 
cluded from  its  enjoyment.  The  rejecters  of  Christ  are 
themselves  eternally  rejected  by  Christ.  The  primary 
application  of  this  principle  was,  of  course,  to  the  Jews ; 
for,  after  they  would  not  receive  tlie  Saviour,  the  apos- 
tles and  first  preachers  of  the  gospel  were  commanded 
to  turn  to  the  Gentiles.  But  now  the  privileges  which 
the  Jews  enjoyed  are  possessed  by  the  Gentiles,  and  the 
same  princijjle  holds  in  reference  to  them  ;  for,  if  they 
refuse  the  invitation  to  the  feast,  they  too  will  be  ex- 
cluded from  it.  Privilege  thus,  as  we  have  so  often  had 
occasion  to  remark,  involves  peril :  and  if  we  neglect  the 
great  salvation,  there  is  not  for  us,  any  more  tlian  for 
the  Jews,  any  possibility  of  escape ;  for,  as  one  has  sol- 
emnly said,  the  concluding  portion  of  this  parable  "  im- 
plies the  impossibility  of  future  restoration  of  those  who 
have  received  and  refused  the  gospel  invitation  in  this 
life."  ^  Much  has  been  said  in  these  recent  days  regard- 
ing the  condition  of  those  who  pass  from  earth  without 
having  heard  of  Christ  and  his  salvation.  But  even  in 
their  case,  as  I  read  the  New  Testament,  there  is  no  con- 
tinuance of  probation  after  death  ;  for  the  language  of 
Paul,  "The  invisible  things  of  Ilim  from  the  creation 
of  the  world  are  clearly  seen,  being  understood  by  the 
things  which  are  made,  even  his  eternal  power  and  God- 
head, so  that  they  are  without  excuse  ;  "  and  again,  "  As 
many  as  have  sinned  without  law  shall  also  perish  witli- 
out  law,"  —  seems  to  me  conclusive  on  the  subject.  But, 
whatever  may  be  said  concerning  them,  there  can  be  no 
liesitation  — among  those,  at  least,  who  receive  the  state- 
ments of  the  Lord  Jesus  Clirist  liliusclf  as  autlioritative 
—  concerning  the  fate  of  such  as,  having  heard  the  gos- 
pel, neglect  or  despise  or  reject  it.     These  are  terrible 

1  Abbott. 


302  TUE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

words  in  themselves:  "T  say  unto  you,  that  none  of 
those  men  which  were  bidden  shall  taste  of  my  supper," 
but  they  are  yet  more  terrible  as  coming  from  the  lips 
of  the  loving  and  tender  Lord.  Jesus.  They  are  like 
the  kindred  words  of  the  dresser  of  the  vineyard,  in  the 
parable  of  the  barren  fig-tree :  '•  Then,  after  that,  thou 
shalt  cut  it  down."  And  if  that  be  the  sentiment  of 
Him  who  died  for  men,  what  man  has  any  right  to  cavil 
at  or  condemn  it  ?  Until  one  is  willing  to  be  himself 
crucified  for  the  salvation  of  those  who  reject  Christ,  he 
has  no  right  to  find  fault  with  this  declaration  made  by 
Christ.  Where  shall  we  find  gentleness,  self-sacrifice, 
and  consideration  for  the  human  race,  such  as  Christ  has 
manifested  ?  If  there  had  been  any  possibility  of  avert- 
ing this  doom  from  impenitent  unbelievers,  we  may  be 
sure  that  he  would  have  availed  himself  of  it  on  their 
behalf;  but  if  he  speaks  in  this  fashion,  then  their  de- 
struction must  be  inevitable.  Yes,  and  it  must  be  not 
only  in  harmony  with  justice,  but  with  love.  Now,  we 
have  heard  the  gospel,  we  are  constantly  hearing  it. 
Let  us  beware,  therefore,  lest,  by  neglecting  the  great 
salvation,  we  become  examples  of  its  terrible  realization. 
Think  not,  I  beseech  you,  to  gain  admission  to  the  ban- 
quet after  the  door  is  shut ;  for,  has  not  Christ  himself 
said,  "Many  will  say  to  me  in  that  day.  Lord,  Lord, 
have  we  not  prophesied  in  tliy  name,  and  in  thy  name 
have  cast  out  devils,  and  in  thy  name  done  many  won- 
derful works  ?  And  then  will  I  profess  unto  them,  I 
never  knew  you.  Depart  from  me,  ye  workers  of  ini- 
quity." 1  Ah  !  it  is  a  terrible  thing  to  hear  the  gospel, 
if  we  do  not  accept  it  and  obey  it. 

V.  Finally,  this  parable  reveals  to  us  the  fact  that, 
notwithstanding  the  rejection  of  this  invitation  by  multi- 

1  Matt.  vii.  22,  23. 


THE  GREAT  SUPPER.  303 

tudes,  God's  house  shall  be  filled  at  last.  The  servant 
was  sent  into  the  streets  and  lanes  of  the  city,  and  the 
highways  and  hedges  of  the  country,  to  bring  men  in. 
That,  as  we  have  seen,  symbolizes  the  call  of  the  de- 
graded outcasts  among  the  Jews,  and,  following  there- 
upon, the  call  of  the  Gentiles  at  large  ;  but  it  implies 
also  that  the  tables  shall  be  furnished  with  guests.  Yes, 
heaven  shall  be  fully  occupied  with  God's  redeemed  peo- 
l)le,  and  the  saved  shall  not  be  few.  One  of  the  greatest 
of  French  preachers  —  Massillon,  to  wit  —  has  a  mar- 
vellous sermon  entitled,  "  On  the  Small  Number  of  the 
Elect;"  but,  in  spite  of  much  that  is  solemn  and  true  in 
the  discourse,  I  cannot  agree  with  the  sentiment  implied 
in  its  title.  Hitherto,  indeed,  in  the  world  the  Church 
of  Christ  has  been  in  the  minority ;  but  when  the  sup- 
per of  the  Lamb  shall  be  celebrated  above,  it  shall  not  be 
so.  The  saved  shall  vastly,  and  many  times  over,  out- 
number the  lost,  and  the  house  of  God  shall  be  filled. 
Only  the  few  first  stragglers,  as  it  were,  from  the  streets 
and  lanes  and  highways,  have  yet  taken  their  seats ;  but 
the  messengers  of  the  Lord  of  the  feast  are  busy  over 
an  ever-widening  area,  carrying  the  invitation  to  an  ever- 
increasing  multitude.  Thus  far  the  few  only  have  ac- 
cejjtedit;  but  by  and  by  the  nations  shall  flock  in  to 
the  feast,  "  as  the  doves  to  their  windows."  When  the 
number  of  the  elect  shall  be  accomplished,  it  shall  be 
seen  to  be  no  mere  fraction  of  the  race,  but  the  great 
majority  of  mankind  ;  and  the  place  of  perdition  sliall  be 
to  heaven  only  as  the  prison  is  to  a  populous  community. 
Whether,  therefore,  we  be  saved  or  lost,  shall  make 
little  difference,  so  far  as  the  furnishing  of  heaven  with 
guests  is  concerned ;  but  it  will  make  an  awful  differ- 
ence to  us.  We  shall  not  be  missed,  amid  the  numbers 
without  number  that  people  heaven,  but  oh,  how  much 


304  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

we  shall  miss !  GocVs  purpose  sliall  be  accomplished, 
whether  we  accept  the  invitation  of  the  gospel  or  not. 
If  we  accept  his  grace,  it  shall  be  accomplished  in  our 
salvation  ;  but  if  we  ignore  his  invitation,  it  shall  be  ac- 
complished in  our  everlasting  exclusion  from  the  feast. 

But  why  should  we  thus  entail  destruction  on  our- 
selves ?  "  Yet  there  is  roomy  Come,  then,  my  hearer, 
and  avail  thyself  of  the  gracious  opportunity.  Once 
again  the  Saviour  says,  "  Hearken  diligently  unto  me, 
and  eat  ye  that  which  is  good,  and  let  your  soul  delight 
itself  in  fatness.  Incline  your  ear,  and  come  unto  me  ; 
hear,  and  your  soul  shall  live :  and  I  will  make  with 
you  an  everlasting  covenant,  even  the  sure  mercies  of 
David."  But  listen  again,  for  he  adds,  "  Seek  ye  the 
Lord  while  he  may  be  found,  call  ye  upon  him  while  he 
is  near."  ^  There  is  coming  a  day  when  he  will  not  be 
found.  The  opportunity  is  precious,  but  it  is  fleeting; 
therefore  embrace  it  while  it  lasts,  —  yea,  embrace  it 
now. 

1  Isa.  Iv.  2,  3,  6 


TUB  LOST  SHEEP.  305 


THE  LOST  SHEEP. 

(Luke  XV.  1-7.) 

In  our  exposition  of  the  parable  of  the  great  supper, 
we  saw  that  the  poor,  the  maimed,  the  halt,  and  the 
blind,  in  the  streets  and  lanes  of  the  city,  to  whom 
the  lord  of  the  feast  sent  his  invitations  to  the  banquet, 
after  the  respectable  citizens  had  insulted  him  with 
their  excuses,  represented  the  despised  classes  among 
the  Jews,  to  whom,  after  he  had  been  treated  with  con- 
tempt by  the  scribes  and  Pharisees,  Christ  would  go 
with  his  message  of  salvation.  That  parable,  therefore, 
contained  in  it  a  threatening  of  judgment  to  the  Phari- 
sees, and  a  promise  of  mercy  to  the  degraded. 

1  In  the  summer  of  1872,  shortly  after  the  beginning  of  my  pastorate 
in  New  York,  I  preached  a  series  of  six  discourses  on  the  fifteenth 
cha[)ter  of  the  Gospel  hy  Luke.  These  were  almost  immediately  after- 
ward published  in  a  small  volume  entitled.  The  Lost  Found,  and  the 
"Wanderer  Welcomed;  and  of  that  a  new  edition  was  issued  from  the 
press  some  two  years  ago.  In  view  of  these  facts,  my  first  impulse, 
when  I  came  to  this  ]ioint  in  my  present  course  of  expository  sermons 
on  the  parables  of  our  Lord,  was  to  omit  the  consideration  of  this 
chai)ter  altogether.  But  on  mature  rellectiou  I  have  come  to  the  oon- 
chision  that  it  would  be  a  mistake  to  pass  silently  over  these  match- 
less allegories  now,  merely  because  I  have  formerly  expounded  them. 
I  have  determined,  therefore,  to  make  a  re-study  of  them  all,  not  going 
into  such  minuteness  of  detail  as  I  did  in  the  little  work  to  which  I 
have  referred,  but  still  endeavoring  to  bring  out  as  distinctly  as  possible 
the  truths  which  they  suggest  and  illustrate,  with  such  additional  light 
as  tli(!  experience  of  tliese  intervening  years  and  the  illumination  of  the 
Divine  Spirit  have  given  me  upon  theui. 


306  TRE  PAE^BLES    ">F  OVB   SAVIOUR. 

Now,  in  the  opening  verses  of  this  chapter,  we  learn 
that  ah'eacly,  not  long  after  the  parable  had  been  deliv- 
ered, its  threatening  was  in  course  of  being  carried  out, 
and  its  promise  in  course  of  being  fulfilled.  The  Lord 
had,  in  a  very  large  degree,  turned  away  from  the 
exclusive  and  self-righteous  portion  of  the  nation,  and 
had  begun  to  address  himself  specially  to  the  outcast 
and  despised,  with  such  success,  too,  that  the  Evangelist 
says,  "All  the  publicans  and  sinners  were  drawing  near 
unto  him  to  hear  him."  Nor  is  it  difficult  to  account 
for  their  being  thus  attracted  by  him.  He  did  not 
despise  them  as  others  did ;  and  while  he  never  said  a 
word  that  could  lead  them  to  make  light  of  their  sin, 
and  his  own  purity  was  a  constant  protest  against  their 
wickedness,  yet  by  his  message  of  salvation  he  av/akened 
hope  within  them,  and  by  his  winning  love  he  drew 
them  after  him  to  follow  in  his  steps.  He  taught  them 
to  respect  themselves,  by  showing  them  that  they  were 
the  objects  of  the  Divine  solicitude  ;  and  he  helped  them 
to  rise  above  themselves,  by  breathing  his  own  Spirit 
into  them :  so  that,  as  they  listened  to  his  words,  they 
too  might  say,  like  the  officers  who,  being  sent  to 
apprehend  him,  were  themselves  apprehended  by  him, 
"  Never  man  spake  like  this  man." 

But,  singularly  enough,  the  scribes  and  Pharisees 
who  had  themselves  rejected  Jesus  were  exasperated 
by  his  tenderness  to  the  outcasts  whom  they  despised. 
They  would  not  go  in  themselves,  yet  they  were  irri- 
tated and  annoyed  to  see  such  persons  welcomed  by 
the  Lord ;  and  they  made  his  treatment  of  them  a  new 
reason  for  antagonism  to  him.  Therefore  they  said 
with  a  sneer,  "  This  man  receiveth  sinners,  and  eateth 
with  them."  They  meant  it  in  scorn,  but  it  was  in 
reality  the  great  glory  of  the  Lord;  and  even  their  sneer, 


TUE  LOf:  •'•  SHEEP.  307 

uttered  in  contempt,  has  become  a  jewel  in  the  crown 
wMch  now  he  wears. 

Such  cxclusiveness  as  theirs,  however,  was  not  to  go 
unreproved ;  and  in  order  to  show  them  how  thoroughly 
they  were  out  of  sympathy  with  the  inhabitants  of 
heaven,  and  what  like  their  cold  cynicism  looked  in 
contrast  with  the  welcome  which  God  gives  to  the 
returning  sinner,  he  spake  these  three  parables,  which 
have  ever  since  been  regarded  by  his  disci])les  with 
peculiar  interest.  Behold  how,  out  of  evil,  God  ever 
bringeth  good  I  We  owe  the  parable  of  the  prodigal 
son  to  the  taunt  of  the  Pharisees  and  scribes.  The 
sandal  needs  to  be  cut  in  order  to  give  out  its  richest 
fragrance ;  and  no  diviner  words  ever  issued  from  the 
Redeemer's  lips  than  these  which  he  spoke  in  answer 
to  a  sneer.  The  cross  of  Christ  was  God's  reply  to  tlie 
world's  iniquity,  and  the  story  of  the  prodigal's  recep- 
tion is  the  reproof  which  Christ  administered  to  the 
contempt  of  his  assailants  when  they  despised  him  for 
his  kindness  to  the  publicans  and  sinners. 

The  parables  in  this  chapter  are  three,  but  the  pur- 
pose pervading  them  is  one.  They  were  all  designed 
to  show  the  Pharisees  how  unlike  God  they  were  in  the 
spirit  wliich  they  manifested  when  they  taunted  Jesus 
with  the  reception  of  sinners ;  and  so  they  all  illustrate 
the  joy  that  is  in  heaven  over  a  penitent's  return  to 
God.  The  first  two  show  the  scribes  and  Pharisees 
what  they  ought  to  have  felt,  by  describing  the  joy  of 
a  shepherd  over  the  recovery  of  a  lost  sheep,  and  the 
joy  of  a  woman  at  finding  a  piece  of  money  \Yhich  she 
had  lost ;  tlie  third  teaches  the  same  lesson  by  portray- 
ing the  happiuess  of  a  fatlier  in  receiving  to  his  home 
again  the  aou  whom  lie  had  lost,  and  in  the  e[)isode  of 
the  elder  brother  there  is  lieUl  buiore  the  Pharisees  a 


308  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

faithful  mirror  in  which  each  one  of  them  might  see 
himself. 

But  wliile,  undoubtedly,  that  is  the  great  drift  of  the 
parables,  they,  at  the  same  time,  teach  other  correlated 
truths  with  great  power.  They  all  agree  in  represent- 
ing the  sinner  as  having  been  lost  by  God,  and  in  por- 
traying the  ecstasy  of  God  on  finding  him  again.  But 
the  first  two  show  us,  in  addition,  God's  search  for  that 
which  he  had  lost ;  while  the  third  sets  before  us  the 
result  of  that  Divine  search  in  the  sinner's  own  return 
to  God.  The  first  two  have  their  starting-point  in  the 
heart  of  God ;  and  in  them  we  see  the  yearning  of  that 
heart  over  that  which  had  been  lost,  prompting  him  to 
use  urgent  means  for  its  recovery.  The  third  has  its 
starting-point  in  the  heart  of  the  sinner.  In  it  we  have 
a  picture  of  his  departure,  his  wandering,  his  degrada- 
tion, and  his  return.  Thus  one  in  purpose,  these  par- 
ables are  different  in  detail.  But  they  do  not  describe 
different  classes  of  sinners,  as  if  some  were  found  by 
God  after  a  long  search,  and  others  returned  of  their 
own  accord  to  find  God  for  themselves.  Rather  they 
are  different  views  of  what  happens  at  different  times 
to  the  same  sinner,  and  the  full  truth  concerning  the 
conversion  of  any  sinner  is  to  be  attained  by  combining 
all  the  three.  Such  is  the  wonderful  nature  of  conver- 
sion, that  no  one  parable  can  adequately  illustrate  it;  and 
therefore  here  we  have  three  given  us,  that,  in  the  union 
of  them  all,  we  may  have  a  complete  understanding  of 
its  nature.  When  the  prodigal  comes  to  himself,  and 
says,  "  I  will  arise  and  go  to  my  Father,"  the  parable  of 
the  lost  sheep  tells  us  that  already  the  Good  Shepherd 
has  been  there  to  seek  him ;  and  that  of  the  lost  coin 
informs  us  that  already  the  woman  has  been  there  with 
her  lighted  candle  and  her  dislodging  broom  to  seek  for 
the  piece  which  she  had  lost. 


THE  LOST  SHEEP.  309 

But,  leaving  these  general  topics,  let  us  look  a  little 
at  the  parable  of  the  lost  sheep.  It  is  in  itself  so  simple, 
so  natural,  and  yet  so  pathetic,  that  it  makes  its  way  at 
once  to  the  heart  of  every  reader.  Indeed,  it  might 
have  been  often  enacted  in  the  pastoral  country  in 
which  it  was  first  spoken ;  for  its  author  says,  "  What 
man  of  i/ou  having  an  hundred  sheep?"  and  all  who 
are  familiar  with  shepherd  life  will  recognize  its  truth- 
fulness at  once.  Now,  the  argument  implied  in  the 
parable  is  this :  If  the  recovery  of  a  lost  sheep  is  recog- 
nized by  you  as  an  event  so  joyous  as  to  warrant  the 
owner  of  it  in  calling  his  friends  and  neighbors  together 
to  rejoice  with  him  because  he  has  found  it,  much  more 
is  the  recovery  of  a  lost  soul  by  God  a  cause  of  glad- 
ness to  him  and  all  beside  him ;  and  if  you  do  not  par- 
ticipate in  that  delight,  then  are  ye  out  of  harmony 
with  the  inhabitants  of  heaven,  among  whom  "  there  is 
joy  over  one  sinner  that  repenteth."  It  is  an  argument 
from  the  less  to  the  greater,  having  as  its  suppressed 
premise  the  question  once  before  upon  the  lips  of  the 
Lord,  "How  much  is  a  man  better  than  a  sheep?"  and 
its  reference  to  the  joy  of  the  heavenly  inhabitants  was 
a  reproof  —  all  the  stronger  because  it  was  a  tacit  one 
—  of  the  cynicism  of  the  scribes  and  Pharisees  over  his 
reception  of  publicans  and  sinners. 

But,  while  that  is  the  main  lesson  and  proper  inter- 
pretation of  the  parable,  there  are  many  other  things  in 
it  which  cannot  bo  neglected  without  serious  loss.  Let 
us,  therefore,  examine  it  more  carefully. 

I.  And  first  let  me  ask  you  to  look  at  the  loss.  "  What 
man  of  you,  if  he  lose  one  sheep."  We  Kivve  here  viv- 
idly set  before  us  the  fact  that  the  sinner  has  been  lost 


310  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

by  God.  Usually  in  the  exposition  of  this  parable,  so 
far  as  it  refers  to  the  sinner,  attention  is  directed  to  his' 
hapless  condition.  We  are  reminded  of  the  helpless- 
ness of  the  wandered  sheep,  running  hither  and  thither, 
"bleating  up  the  moor  in  weary  dearth,"  and  ever  liable 
to  be  assailed  by  wild  beasts,  or  to  fall  headlong  over 
some  rugged  precipice,  or  into  some  fearful  pit ;  and  we 
are  told  that  in  all  this  we  have  a  picture  of  the  sinner, 
who  has  gone  away  from  God,  and  cannot  find  his  way 
back,  while  he  is  a  prey  to  spiritual  adversaries  of  every 
sort.  Now,  that  is  all  true ;  but  it  is  not  the  truth 
taught  here.  For  the  loss  here  is  sustained  not  by  the 
sinner,  but  by  God ;  and  in  that  fact  we  have  the  infinite 
pathos  of  these  parables.  ITe  is  the  shepherd  whose 
sheep  has  wandered  off.  He  is  the  woman  whose  piece 
of  money  has  disappeared  in  the  darkness  and  debris  of 
the  house ;  He  is  the  father  whose  son  has  gone  away, 
and  become  lost  to  him.  Now,  I  know  that  it  is  perilous 
to  press  a  human  analogy  to  its  utmost,  when  we  are 
speaking  about  God.  I  admit  also,  that,  strictly  speak- 
ing, God  cannot  be  said  to  lose  any  thing.  But  still, 
somewhere  and  somehow,  the  figure  of  these  parables  has 
a  real  significance.  We  can  not,  we  dare  not,  eliminate 
from  this  losing  of  the  sheep,  of  the  money,  of  the  son, 
all  reference  to  the  feelings  of  God  toAvard  the  sinner. 
They  mean,  that,  in  the  separation  between  him  and 
the  man,  which  sin  has  caused,  Jehovah  has  lost  some- 
thing which  he  had  formerly  possessed,  and  highly 
valued.  They  mean,  that,  to  God,  the  sinner  is  as 
something  -lost  is  to  him  to  whom  it  belonged ;  and 
these  parables  let  us  see  how  anxious  he  is,  and  what 
efforts  he  will  make,  to  regain  it  for  his  own.  At  first 
there  was  a  human  voice  in  the  choral  anthem  of  his 
praise ;  but  when  man  sinned,  that  voice  dropped  out, 


THE  LOST  SHEEP.  311 

and  He  marked  its  absence  "with  as  much  of  sadness  as 
Deity  can  feel.  Nay,  there  was  a  special  reason  why 
God  should  miss  human  allegiance,  even  though,  in 
other  respects,  its  loss  should  seem  no  greater  than  that 
of  one  sheep  out  of  a  hundred;  for  man  alone,  of  all 
his  creatures,  was  formed  in  God's  image.  In  him  alone 
could  Jehovah  see  the  complete,  though  miniature,  rep- 
resentation of  liimself ;  but  when  he  sinned,  that  image 
was  defaced,  and  God  lost  that  which  was  to  him  so 
dear.  Or,  to  put  it  more  simply,  when  man  fell,  God 
lost  the  honor  and  service  of  human  lives,  the  affection 
of  human  hearts,  and  the  joy  of  human  fellowship. 

Nor  let  it  be  supposed,  that,  in  giving  prominence  to 
this  thought,  I  am  insisting  on  something  which  is  of 
no  importance;  for  in  this  feeling  of  loss  on  the  part  of 
God,  I  hnd  the  explanation  of  the  great  sacrifice  which 
he  has  made  for  human  redemption.  We  do  not  like 
to  lose  any  thing.  No  matter  how  apparently  trivial 
that  which  we  have  lost  may  be,  we  will  search  again 
and  again  before  Ave  give  it  up  as  irrecoverable ;  and 
the  more  we  value  it,  tlie  more  earnest  will  be  our  quest. 
If  it  be  an  animal,  or  a  sum  of  mone}',  we  will  go  hither 
and  thither  ourselves,  and  engage  others  in  the  search, 
that  by  all  means  we  may  be  successful.  If  it  be  a  son, 
all  the  depths  of  our  hearts  will  be  stirred  within  us  as 
we  set  out  to  track  his  wanderings ;  and  we  will  never 
give  up  our  efforts  until  we  come  either  on  himself  or 
on  his  grave.  Now,  there  must  be  something  like  that 
in  God  ;  for  he  has  made  us  in  his  own  image.  I  say 
not,  indeed,  that  the  loss  of  his  human  children  caused 
him  positive  unhappiness ;  and  yet,  after  all,  why  need 
I  be  so  chary?  Do  not  the  Scriptures  speak  of  him  as 
grieved?  Do  tliey  not  represent  him  as  soliloquizing 
thus:    "How  shall    I  give    thee    up,  Ephraim?      How 


312  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

shall  I  deliver  thee,  Israel  ?  How  shall  I  make  thee  as 
Admah?  How  shall  I  set  thee  as  Zebohn?  Mine 
heart  is  turned  within  me,  my  repentings  are  kindled 
together."  ^  Let  me  take  courage,  then,  and  say,  that, 
feeling  the  loss  which  he  had  sustained  in  being  deprived 
of  man's  affection  and  obedience,  God  yearned  in  eager 
earnestness  for  the  recovery  of  that  which  he  so  missed. 
"We  can  speak  of  God  only  in  human  words,  and  these 
must  lose  some  of  their  earthly  meaning  when  applied 
to  him.  Nevertheless,  it  standeth  here  most  sure,  that, 
when  man  sinned,  God  lost  that  which  he  valued  very 
greatly ;  and  that  the  sense  of  this  loss  impelled  him  to 
seek  after  the  salvation  of  sinners.  "  He  so  loved  the 
world,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son."  What  is 
that  but  just  another  way  of  saying  that  he  so  missed 
man's  aifection  and  fellowship,  that  he  gave  his  only 
begotten  Son?  He  sought  our  salvation  not  merely 
for  our  sakes,  but  also  for  his  own ;  and  thus  the  con- 
sciousness of  loss  corresponds,  at  the  one  end  of  the 
matter,  with  the  rapturous  joy  which  is  felt  at  the  other 
when  the  sinner  repenteth. 

This  view  of  the  subject  may  well  give  careless  sin- 
ners food  for  serious  reflection.  You  are  God's.  As  his 
creatures,  yea,  as  his  sons,  you  are  his.  But  you  have 
gone  away  from  him  after  your  own  paths,  seeking  your 
own  ends  ;  and  he  misses  you.  He  on  whom  the  uni- 
verse depends,  and  who,  it  might  be  supposed,  cares 
nothing  about  you,  —  he  misses  you.  He  yearns  for 
your  affection.  He  desires  your  return.  Yea,  he  has 
used  means  of  the  most  costly  sort  to  find  you  out,  and 
to  bring  you  back.  Why  will  you  continue  to  be  indif- 
ferent to  him  ?  Why  will  you  perversely  misrepresent 
him  as  one  who  takes  no  interest  whatever  in  your  wel- 

1  Hos.  xi.  8. 


THE  LOST  SHEEP.  313 

fare  ?  Believe  me,  you  can  give  him  no  higher  joy  than 
by  returning  unto  him,  while  at  the  same  time  your 
repentance  will  secure  your  own  eternal  happiness. 

II.  But  it  is  time  now  to  look  at  the  search  and 
recovery.  "  Doth  he  not  leave  the  ninetylina  nine  in 
the  wilderness,  and  go  after  that  which  is  lost  until  he 
find  it?  and  when  he  hath  found  it  he  layeth  it  on  his 
shoulders  rejoicing."  Many  questions  rise  out  of  these 
words,  which  are  more  easily  asked  than  answered. 
Whom  do  these  ninety  and  nine  represent?  What  is 
meant  by  the  leaving  of  them,  and  going  after  that  which 
is  lost?  and  when  may  the  lost  be  said  to  be  truly 
found?  The  ninety  and  nine  are  said,  in  the  seventh 
verse,  to  be  "just  persons  which  need  no  repentance." 
Now,  some  have  supposed  that  there  is  here  a  reference 
to  the  Pharisees  and  scribes.  They  would  make  it  an 
ironical  expression  like  that  other,  "  They  that  are 
whole  need  not  a  physician,  but  they  that  are  sick.  I 
came  not  to  call  the  righteous,  but  sinners,  to  repent- 
ance ; "  ^  and  they  would  interpret  the  leaving  of  the 
ninety  and  nine  as  a  vindication  of  himself  by  Jesus 
for  leaving  the  exclusive  and  self-righteous  and  going 
after  publicans  and  sinners.  This  gives  a  good  and 
consistent  enough  meaning,  and  I  have  been  greatly 
inclined  to  adopt  it  as  correct ;  yet  two  reasons  weigh 
witli  nic  so  strongly  as  to  lead  me  to  prefer  another. 
These  are :  First,  it  is  positively  said  here  that  these 
ninety  and  nine  need  no  repentance :  therefore  it  is 
implied  that  they  have  never  sinned.  Second,  it  is 
affirmed  that  "  joy  shall  be  in  heaven  over  one  sinner 
that  repenteth,  more  than  over  ninety  and  nine  just 
persons  which  need  no  repentance  :  "  therefore  it  is  im- 

1  Matt.  ix.  12. 


314  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

plied  that  there  is  some  joy  over  the  ninety  and  nine. 
But  that  cannot  be  true  if  they  represent  the  Pharisees, 
since  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  that  any  inhabitant  of 
heaven  could  rejoice  in  any  degree  over  them.  There- 
fore, although  the  view  which  I  prefer  is  not  without  its 
own  serious  difficulties,  I  am  disposed  to  regard  the 
ninety  and  nine  as  descriptive  of  the  angels  who  have 
kept  their  first  estate,  and  who  ceaselessly  serve  God 
before  his  throne. 

If,  then,  that  representation  be  correct,  the  leaving 
of  the  ninety  and  nine  will  signify  the  leaving  of  heaven 
by  the  eternal  Son,  when,  at  the  era  of  the  incarnation, 
he  who  was  "  rich,  for  our  sakes  became  poor,"  ^  and  set 
out  in  search  of  that  which  was  lost.  And  the  search 
itself  will  include  every  thing  which  the  Lord  Jesus 
did  by  his  own  personal  ministry  on  earth,  by  his  death, 
resurrection,  and  ascension,  and  by  the  mission  of  his 
Spirit,  as  well  as  every  thing  which  he  is  now  doing  by 
the  preaching  and  labors  of  his  ministers,  for  the  re- 
covery of  sinners.  All  the  way  from  the  bosom  of  the 
Father  to  the  tomb  of  Joseph,  Jesus  came  to  seek  and 
to  save  that  which  was  lost;  and  while  that  was  the 
goal  which  he  had  in  view  at  the  last,  he  was  all  the  time 
giving  illustrations  of  his  great  work  as  he  went  along. 
He  was  seeking  his  sheep  which  he  had  lost,  when  he 
sat  by  the  well  of  Sychar,  and  talked  with  the  woman 
of  Samaria ;  when  he  called  Zacchseus  down  from  liis 
perch  among  the  leaves  of  the  sycamore-tree ;  and  when 
he  bade  Matthew  follow  him  from  his  toll-booth.  He 
died  that  the  path  might  be  opened  up  for  him  to  go 
farther  still  in  his  loving  search ;  and  he  had  the  same 
object  in  view  when  he  shed  forth  his  Spirit  on  the  day  of 
Pentecost,  and  inspired  his  servants  to  proclaim  his  truth 

1  2  Cor.  viii.  9. 


THE  LOST  SHEEP.  315 

with  power.  He  has  been  continuing  his  search  ever 
since :  and  still  in  the  events  of  his  providence,  whereby 
he  rouses  the  careless  to  reflection ;  in  the  labors  of  his 
ministers,  who  proclaim  his  message,  and  speak  to  the 
hearts  of  their  fellow-men ;  and  in  the  strivings  of  his 
Spirit,  whereby  often,  when  they  can  give  no  explana- 
tion of  the  matter,  men's  minds  are  strangely  turned  in 
the  direction  of  salvation,  —  he  is  going  after  that  which 
was  lost.  Yea,  he  is  here  to-night  prosecuting  his 
search,  as  once  again,  through  the  exposition  of  this 
parable,  his  love  and  earnestness  and  tenderness  are 
set  before  us.  Nor  will  his  search  be  concluded  until 
time  shall  be  no  longer.  Oh  !  in  view  of  this  unceasing 
work  of  the  Good  Shepherd,  may  we  not  sing,  in  the 
words  of  the  old  hymn,  — 

"  Wearily  for  me  thou  souglitest, 
On  the  cross  my  soul  thou  boughtest, 
Lose  not  all  for  which  thou  wroughtest "  ? 

But  when  is  a  sinner  found  by  Christ  ?  The  answer 
is :  when,  on  his  side,  the  sinner  finds  Christ.  The  find- 
ing of  the  lost  sheep  is,  as  you  see,  spoken  of  in  the 
parable  as  corresponding  with  the  repenting  of  the  sin- 
ner. When,  therefore,  the  sinner  turns  to  God,  he  is 
found  and  recovered  by  God ;  or,  borrowing  here  a  side 
light  from  the  tliird  parable  in  this  chapter,  when  the 
prodigal  comes  to  himself,  and  says,  "  I  will  arise  and 
go  to  my  Father,"  he  is  precisely  at  the  point  indicated 
in  the  first  parable  by  the  shepherd's  finding  his  sheep 
and  laying  it  on  his  shoulder.  What  is  seen  from  the 
heavenly  side  is  Christ  laying  his  hand  upon  the  sinner 
as  he  says,  "  I  have  found  that  which  was  lost ; "  but 
what  is  seen  from  the  earthly  side  is  the  sinner  laying 
his  hand  on  Christ  as  he  exclaims,  "  I  have  found  my 


316  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

deliverer."  Yet  these  are  not  two  things  so  much  as 
different  sides  of  the  same  thing,  and  they  are  both 
present  in  every  conversion.  Nor  must  we  lose  sight 
of  the  tenderness  of  the  Good  Shepherd  as  he  is  here 
described.  He  does  not  strike  the  sheep,  or  speak  to  it 
in  words  of  harshness ;  but  he  lifts  it  gently  on  to  his 
own  shoulders,  and  carries  it  back  to  the  flock.  So  it  is 
with  Jesus  and  the  sinner.  He  does  not  upbraid  him 
with  his  waywardness  and  folly ;  he  does  not  cast  his 
iugratitude  and  disobedience  in  his  teeth:  but  with 
gentleness  he  receives  him  to  his  heart,  and  fills  him 
with  happiness  and  joy.  "  A  bruised  reed  shall  he  not 
break,  and  the  smoking  flax  shall  he  not  quench."  ^ 
You  need  not  be  afraid  of  him,  O  sinner ;  for  he  is  say- 
ing to  you  now,  "  Come  unto  me,  and  I  will  give  you 
rest." 

in.  The  last  thing  in  the  parable  is  the  joy  over  the 
recovery  of  that  which  had  been  lost.  "^And  when  he 
Cometh  home  he  calleth  together  his  friends  and  neigh- 
bours, saying  unto  them :  Rejoice  with  me,  for  I  have 
found  my  sheep  which  was  lost.  I  say  unto  you,  that 
likewise  joy  shall  be  in  heaven  over  one  sinner  that 
repenteth,  more  than  over  ninety  and  nine  just  persons 
which  need  no  repentance."  The  home-coming  here 
can  hardly  be  identical  with  the  finding  of  the  lost  one, 
but  must  rather  be  understood  of  the  introduction  of 
the  saved  one  into  heaven  at  last.  Yet  the  joy  over  his 
recovery  is  not  delayed  till  then,  though  then  it  shall 
be  intensified  and  increased.  An  illustration  may  make 
this  perfectly  plain.  Suppose  that  one  of  your  children 
has  wandered  away  from  home,  and  that  a  trusted  mem- 
ber of  your  family  has  set  out  in  search  of  him.     He  is 

1  Isa.  xlii.  3. 


THE  LOST  SHEEP.  317 

away  a  long  time,  and  your  heart  grows  weary  as  it  looks 
for  tidings  day  after  day  in  vain.  At  length  there  comes 
a  telegram  from  a  distant  city  with  the  information  that 
the  lost  one  has  been  found,  and  that  both  will  be  home 
again  ere  long.  Of  course  the  mere  receipt  of  that 
message  gives  you  joy,  irrepressible  and  ecstatic.  But 
when  the  loved  one  enters  your  dwelling  once  again, 
your  joy  becomes  more  emphatic  and  demonstrative 
than  ever.  Now,  your  gladness  at  the  receipt  of  the 
telegram  corresponds  to  the  joy  that  is  in  heaven  over 
a  sinner's  repentance;  while  your  higher  delight  over 
the  reception  of  your  child  into  your  home  symbolizes 
the  joy  which  shall  be  felt  when  the  saved  sinner  is 
received  into  glory. 

But  why  sliould  there  be  more  joy  over  the  repenting 
sinner  than  over  the  unfallen  angels?  The  question  is 
important,  for  that  is  the  chief  point  of  difference  be- 
tween the  first  and  second  parables  here.  As  we  shall 
see  when  we  come  to  it,  the  joy  of  the  woman  in  the 
next  parable  demands  society  to  make  it  complete, 
even  as  it  is  said  here  that  the  shepherd  calleth  "  to- 
gether" his  friends  and  neighbors;  but  in  the  moral  of 
that  parable  this  general  joy  is  brought  into  promi- 
nence, whereas  in  that  of  this  one  it  drops  out  of  notice, 
and  stress  is  laid  mainly  on  the  fact  that  the  joy  is 
greater  over  the  recovery  of  the  lost  than  over  the 
retention  of  the  unfallen.  And  to  understand  how  that 
may  be,  we  have  but  to  recall  familiar  experiences  of 
our  own.  The  mother  regards  with  a  peculiar  interest 
the  child  that  has  been  nigh  unto  death  and  brought 
back  again  as  from  the  grave.  The  greater  the  peril 
one  has  passed  through,  the  greater  the  joy  over  his 
ultimate  safety.  One  Bible  has  as  much  in  it  as  another, 
and  to  the  devout  soul  any  copy  of  the  Scriptures  will 


318  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

be  an  object  of  interest;  but  I  am  sure  Dr.  Andrew 
Bonar  regards  with  special  delight  that  Bible- which  he 
accidentally  let  fall  into  Jacob's  well,  and  which,  after 
having  been  for  long  years  lying  there,  was  at  length 
fished  up  and  restored  to  him  by  his  friend  Dr.  Wilson 
of  Bombay.  A  ship-launch  is  a  glad  occasion  ;  and  as 
the  crowds  behold  the  vessel,  gayly  decked  with  flags, 
slip  down  the  ways  into  the  water,  they  rend  the 
air  with  cheers;  but  there  is  another  kind  of  joy  in 
the  hearts  of  those  whose  loved  ones  have  been  on 
board  a  steamship  that  is  long  overdue  and  has  been 
given  up  for  lost,  when  she  is  signalled  off  the  port, 
and  they  hasten  down  to  the  wharf  to  receive  those  for 
whom  they  had  almost  mourned  as  for  the  dead.  Such 
experiences  as  these,  human  though  they  be,  may  help 
us  to  understand  the  joy  that  is  in  heaven,  and  chiefest 
of  all  there  in  the  heart  of  God  himself,  over  one  sinner 
that  repenteth.  Such  a  joy,  O  sinner,  you  may  occa- 
sion there.  Repent,  therefore,  now:  and  as  the  news 
is  told  on  high,  a  thrill  of  gladness  will  vibrate  in  the 
hearts  of  the  redeemed ;  angels  will  share  the  high 
delight,  and  God  himself  will  own  the  rapture  of  the 
moment  as  he  says,  "This  my  son  was  dead,  and  is 
alive  again  :  he  was  lost,  and  is  found." 

I  conclude  with  the  repetition  of  one  of  the  most 
touching  lyrics  founded  on  this  parable  which  I  have 
seen,  though  my  imperfect  acquaintance  with  the  dialect 
of  the  colored  people,  in  which  it  is  written,  may  prevent 
3^ou  somewhat  from  feeling  the  power  of  its  exquisite 

pathos. 

De  iTiassa  ob  de  sheepfol', 
Dat  guards  de  sheepfol'  bin, 
Look  out  in  de  glooraerin'  meadows 
Wlui'r  de  long  night  rain  begin  : 
So  lie  call  to  de  hirelin'  sliepa'd,  — 
"  Is  my  sheep,  is  dey  all  come  in  V  " 


TEE  LOST  SnEEP.  819 

Oh,  den  says  de  hirelin'  shepa'd, 
"  Des's  some,  dey's  black  and  thin, 
And  some,  dey's  po'  ol'  wedda's. 
But  de  res'  dey's  all  brung  in,  — 
But  de  res'  dey's  all  brung  in." 

Den  de  massa  ob  de  sheepfol', 

Dat  guards  de  sheepfol'  bin. 

Goes  down  in  de  gloomerin'  meadows, 

Whar  de  long  night  rain  begin ; 

So  he  le'  down  de  ba's  ob  de  sheepfol', 

Callin'  sof,  "  Come  in,  come  in,"  — 

Callin'  sof,  "  Come  in,  come  in!  " 

Den  up  t'ro'  de  gloomerin'  meadows, 
T'ro'  de  col'  night  rain  and  win', 
And  up  t'ro'  de  gloomerin'  rain-paf 
Wha'r  de  sleet  fa'  pie'cin'  thin, 
De  po'  los'  sheep  ob  de  sheepfol' 
Dey  all  comes  gadderin'  in,  — 
De  po'  los'  sheep  ob  de  sheepfol' 
Dey  all  comes  gadderin'  in. 


320  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 


XXI. 

THE  LOST  COIN. 

(Luke  XV.  8-10.) 

The  story  told  in  these  verses  is  thoroughly  true  to 
Eastern  life.  Even  to  this  day,  as  I  have  been  informed 
by  one,  who,  from  long  residence  among  them,  is  per- 
fectly familiar  with  the  domestic  habits  of  the  people 
of  Palestine,  the  cherished  heirlooms  of  a  Syrian  woman 
consist,  for  the  most  part,  in  pieces  of  money.  They 
are  her  own  exclusive  property,  with  which  her  husband 
may  not  interfere ;  and,  having  descended  to  her  from 
her  mother,  they  are  handed  down  by  her  in  turn  to 
her  daughters.  They  are  commonly  worn  in  the  hair, 
the  larger  pieces  generally  hanging  from  the  ends  of  the 
braids.  Thus  one  might  easily  fall  out  of  its  place ; 
and,  if  it  did  so,  it  could  not  be  recovered  without  a 
search. 

For  there  was  not  in  Eastern  dwellings,  in  the 
Saviour's  day,  the  same  scrupulous  attention  to  cleanli- 
ness that  we  love  to  see  in  so  many  homes  among  our- 
selves. The  floors  were  frequently  covered  with  rushes, 
which,  being  changed  only  at  rare  intervals,  collected  a 
vast  amount  of  dust  and  debris.,  among  which  a  coin 
might  be  very  readily  lost.  Add  to  this,  that  Eastern 
houses  are  constructed  in  such  a  way  as  to  keep  out  the 
light  and  heat  of  the  sun  as  much  as  possible.  Dr. 
Edward  Robinson  speaks  of  his  having  passed  a  night 


THE  LOST  COIN.  321 

in  the  Lebanon,  in  a  house  in  which  there  was  "no 
window,  and  no  light  except  from'  the  door  ;  "  ^  and,  in 
general,  the  windows  are  few,  while  even  these  are 
shaded  with  snch  lattice-work  as  tends  to  exclude  rather 
than  admit  the  light.  Hence  when  a  comparatively 
small  article,  like  a  piece  of  money,  was  lost  in  such  a 
place,  the  lighting  of  a  lamp,  and  the  sweeping  of  the 
house,  were  the  most  natural  means  to  be  used  for  its 
recovery.  Moreover,  as  the  coin  formed  presumably  a 
l)art  of  the  dowry  of  the  woman,  in  which  all  her 
descendants  had  an  interest  as  well  as  herself,  we  can 
easily  understand  how  its  loss  and  recovery  would  be 
almost  equally  an  object  of  interest  to  them  all.  It 
was  quite  natural,  therefore,  for  her  to  call  her  female 
friends  and  neighbors,  —  for  so  the  phrase  is  m  the 
Greek,  —  to  rejoice  with  her  over  the  finding  of  her 
lost  heirloom ;  for  they,  as  having  similar  treasures  ex- 
posed to  similar  dangers,  would  be  able  to  enter  fully 
into  her  feelings. 

The  parable  is  thus  realistically  true,  even  in  its 
minutest  details ;  while  yet  it  has  in  it  that  idealistic 
universality  which  makes  every  reader  feel  that  it  might 
have  happened  to  himself.  It  is  a  painting  of  an  inte- 
rior, such  as  Wilkie  and  Teniers  loved  to  portray,  with 
this  added  feature,  that  we  have  here  the  motion  and 
I)rogress,  which  no  picture  can  rei)roduce ;  while  it  is 
all  so  natural,  that  we  seem  for  the  time  to  be  ourselves 
taking  part  in  the  search,  and  joining  in  the  gladness 
wherewith  its  success  is  celebrated. 

But  beautiful  as  it  is,  even  as  a  picture,  this  parable 
is  no  less  striking  as  the  material  analogy  of  the  spirit- 
ual truth  with  which  the  Saviour  was  dealing  when  he 
spake  it  at  the  first.     It  carries  its  interpretation  on  its 

1  Biblical  Researches,  vol.  iii.  p.  44. 


322  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

face ;  and  is  in  the  main  a  repetition,  witli  emphasis,  of 
the  parable  of  the  lost  sheep.  Both  of  them  set  before 
us  a  loss,  a  search,  a  recovery,  and  a  resultant  joy.  In 
both  the  argument  is  from  the  less  to  the  greater ;  and 
in  both  the  application  is  to  the  objection  which  the 
Pharisees  and  scribes  raised  against  Christ  for  receiving 
sinners,  and  eating  with  them.  The  lesson  plainly  is, 
that,  if  a  woman  has  such  gladness  over  the  finding  of 
a  lost  piece  of  money  that  she  cannot  but  call  upon 
her  friends  and  neighbors  to  rejoice  with  her,  much 
more  ought  all  right-thinking  persons  to  rejoice  with 
God  over  the  recovery  of  lost  sinners.  And  that  joy 
is  felt  among  the  inhabitants  of  heaven,  over  one  sinner 
that  repenteth. 

This  is  the  full  exposition  of  the  parable.  But  to 
enforce  that  would  be  only  to  repeat  what  we  have 
already  advanced  in  our  consideration  of  the  story  of 
the  lost  sheep ;  and  therefore  to-night  we  shall  turn 
your  attention  to  some  things  suggested  here,  which, 
though  not  strictly  and  properly  belonging  to  exposi- 
tion, may  yet  fairly  enough  find  a  place  in  the  homiletic 
treatment  of  the  subject,  provided  it  be  clearly  under- 
stood that  we  regard  them,  not  as  a  part  of  the  inter- 
pretation of  the  parable,  but  simply  as  edifying  truths, 
which  are  recalled  to  our  minds  by  the  special  features 
of  the  story  itself. 

I.  Look,  then,  first,  at  the  thing  lost.  It  was  a  coin. 
It  was  not  simply  a  piece  of  precious  metal,  but  that 
metal  moulded  and  minted  into  money.  You  remember 
how,  when  the  enemies  of  Jesus  sought  to  insnare  him 
by  asking  whether  it  was  lawful  to  give  tribute  to 
Caesar  or  not,  he  said  to  them,  "  Show  me  a  penny  ; " 
and  when  one  had  been  produced,  he  asked,  "  Whose  is 


THE  LOST  COIN.  323 

this  image  and  superscription  ?  "  They  replied,  "  Cae- 
sar's." Whereupon  he  answered,  "Render  therefore 
unto  Cajsar  the  things  which  are  Caesar's,  and  to  God 
the  thuigs  which  are  God's."  ^  Now,  reading  this  par- 
able in  the  light  of  that  narrative,  we  think  of  the  coin 
as  stamped  with  the  king's  image,  and  designed  not  only 
for  a  medium'  of  exchange,  but  also  for  a  testimony  to 
the  royalty  and  right  of  him  whose  likeness  was  im- 
pressed upon  it.  What  a  beautiful  thing  is  a  new  piece 
of  money  !  How  sharply  cut  are  the  letters  which  are 
imprinted  on  it !  How  lincly  relieved  the  likeness  of 
the  monarch !  And  how  bright  its  polished  surface ! 
Can  we  help  being  reminded  by  all  this  of  the  human 
soul,  when  first  it  came  new-minted  from  the  Creator's 
hand  ?  It  had  enstamped  upon  it  his  image  in  knowl- 
edge, righteousness,  and  holiness,  and  was  designed  by 
him  to  be  a  willing  witness-bearer  to  the  rightfulness 
of  his  authority  and  the  stability  of  his  throne.  He 
made  man  after  his  own  likeness,  and  this  coin  in  its 
original  condition  may  image  forth  to  us  the  human  soul 
in  its  primal  dignity  and  beauty. 

But  the  coin  was  lost^  and  that  may  suggest  to  us  that 
the  great  purpose  for  which  man  was  created  has  been 
missed  by  the  sinner.  For  any  good  which  the  piece  of 
money,  so  long  as  it  was  lost,  was  to  its  owner,  it  might 
as  well  have  been  non-existent.  And  similarly  the  sin- 
ner is,  so  to  say,  of  no  use  to  God.  He  gives  no  glory 
to  God ;  he  is  of  no  service  to  him,  so  far,  at  least,  as 
the  promotion  of  his  honor  and  the  acknowledgment 
of  his  authority  are  concerned.  He  does  not  "like  to 
retain  God  "  in  his  knowledge.  His  heart  is  estranged 
from  God's  love ;  his  life  is  devoted  to  another  lord : 
he  is  lost. 

1  Luke  XX.  24,  25. 


324  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

Yet  he  is  not  absolutely  worthless ;  for  the  coin, 
though  lost,  has  still  a  value.  If  it  can  be  recovered,  it 
will  be  worth  as  much  as  ever.  It  may  be  blackened 
with  rust,  or  soiled  with  mud,  or  covered  over  with 
dust ;  but  it  is  still  silver,  —  nay,  it  is  still  minted  silver. 
Even  so  the  human  soul  is  valuable  though  lost.  It 
has  in  it  the  silver  of  immortality ;  and,  depraved  though 
it  be,  its  intellectual  powers,  its  moral  freedom,  its  soar- 
ing ambition,  and  its  upbraiding  conscience  tell  not 
only  of  its  former  grandeur,  but  also  of  its  present  im- 
portance. Sinful  as  he  is,  man  is  the  most  valuable 
being  in  the  world.  There  is  nothing  equal  to  him  ; 
nothing,  almost,  that  we  can  name  as  second  after  him. 
There  is  a  wide,  yawning,  impassable  gulf  between  him 
and  the  highest  of  the  lower  animals.  He  has  a  dignity 
to  which  they  can  lay  no  claim.  He  has  a  character 
which  is  unique  and  peculiar  to  himself.  In  sj)ite  of 
modern  theories  of  development,  there  is  in  every 
human  being  a  moral  nature  which  marks  him  man  and 
not  brute,  together  with  such  feelings  after  the  future 
life  as  stamp  him  immortal ;  and  this  is  the  silver  of 
the  coin  that  once  bore,  distinct  and  well  defined,  the 
lineaments  of  Jehovah's  image. 

But  the  coin  may  he  recovered,  for  it  was  lost  in  the 
house.  The  woman  did  not  let  it  fall  as  she  was  cross- 
ing the  wild  and  trackless  moor,  neither  did  she  drop  it 
into  the  depths  of  the  Galilsean  lake.  Had  she  done 
either,  she  would  never  have  thought  of  seeking  for  it, 
for  she  would  have  regarded  it  as  irrecoverable.  But 
knowing  that  it  had  fallen  from  her  in  the  house,  and 
that  it  must  be  somewhere  within  its  walls,  she  made 
vigorous  search  in  the  certainty  that  it  could  be  found. 
Now,  that  reminds  us  that  the  soul  of  the  sinner  is 
recoverable  by  God.     It  is  capable  of  being  restored  to 


TEE  LOST  com.  325 

its  original  dignity  and  purity.     It  has  in  it  still  possi- 
bilities as  great  and  glorious  as  ever. 

There  are  many  things  which  are  to  human  view 
irremediable,  and  must  be  left  as  they  are.  No  human 
alchemy  can  bleach  into  its  primal  whiteness  the  black- 
ened snow  which  has  been  trodden  into  miry  slush 
upon  the  city  streets.  No  artistic  ingenuity  can  replace 
the  downy  skin  upon  the  peach  which  has  been  rubbed 
against  the  ragged  wall.  No  manufacturing  skill  can 
restore  to  the  violet  the  velvet  softness  of  its  leaf  after 
it  has  been  crumpled  up  and  withered.  But  the  soul 
of  man,  even  in  its  most  depraved  condition,  is  capable  of 
being  renewed,  and  may  yet  become  a  pure  and  holy  den- 
izen of  heaven.  For  "who  are  these  in  white  robes? 
and  whence  came  they?"  These  are  "they  who  have 
washed  their  robes,  and  made  them  white  in  the  blood 
of  the  Lamb,"  souls  renewed  by  the  power  of  God's 
Spirit,  through  the  work  of  his  Son.  The  lost  sinner, 
therefore,  may  be  recovered.  So  no  one  needs  despair, 
or  think  that  he  is  bej'-ond  the  possibility  of  salvation ; 
neither  should  any  one  among  us  regard  the  most 
abandoned  as  hopeless :  for  the  coin  went  a-missing,  not 
in  the  dark  depths  of  the  inaccessible  ravine,  but  within 
the  four  walls  of  the  house.  What  an  antidote  to  per- 
sonal despondency,  and  what  a  spur  to  flagging  energy 
in  our  efforts  for  the  benefit  of  others,  have  we  in  this 
delightful  thought ! 

II.  But  now  let  us  look  at  the  search,  and  we  may 
find  some  equally  important  truths  recalled  by  that  to 
our  remembrance.  The  loser  here  is  also  the  seeker ; 
and,  as  it  was  natural  that  the  sho})herd  should  go  after 
his  sheep,  it  is  e([ually  natural,  that,  in  this  case,  the 
woman  should  make  search  for  tlie  coin.     We  may  not, 


326  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

therefore,  jjress  into  undue  significance  the  fact  that 
prominence  is  given  here  to  a  woman,  or  seek  to  bring 
more  out  of  the  parable  than  it  really  contains.  Yet  it 
is  hardly  possible,  for  me  at  least,  to  read  it,  in  the  con- 
nection in  which  here  it  stands,  without  having  recalled 
to  my  mind  the  agency  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  the  con- 
version of  a  soul.  In  the  first  of  the  parables,  the 
shepherd  reminds  us  of  Him  who  is  emphatically  the 
Good  Shepherd ;  and  we  had  no  hesitation  in  applying 
what  is  said  there  to  his  seeking  and  saving  that  which 
was  lost.  In  the  third  of  the  parables,  the  reception  of 
the  prodigal  by  his  father  connects  itself,  in  the  mind 
of  every  reader,  with  the  loving  Fatherhood  of  God,  as 
manifested  in  the  welcome  which  he  gives  to  the  return- 
ing sinner.  And  therefore  there  is  no  impropriety  in 
associating  what  is  here  said  of  the  woman,  with  the 
agency  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  the  recovery  of  a  sinful 
soul.  Mr.  Arnot,  indeed,  will  not  allow  us  to  take 
such  a  view,  even  though  we  do  not  put  it  forward  as 
involved  in  the  proper  interpretation  of  the  parable. 
He  affirms,  that,  since  the  shepherd  who  lost  the  sheep 
represents  the  Lord  Jesus,  the  woman  who  lost  the  piece 
of  money  must  represent  him  too.  But  if  that  argu- 
ment have  any  force,  then  we  must  go  farther,  and 
affirm  that  the  father  who  lost  his  son  must  also  repre- 
sent Christ.  But  that  is  a  view  which  no  one  will 
accept.  The  truth  is,  that  which  was  lost,  whether  we 
call  it  sheep,  or  coin,  or  son,  represents  the  sinner  who 
was  lost  by  the  Grodhead;  and  if  in  the  shepherd  we 
are  reminded  of  the  Son,  and  in  the  father  we  have 
God  the  Father  suggested  to  us,  there  can  surely  be  no 
impropriety  in  hinting  that  the  action  of  this  woman 
may  remind  us  of  the  wqrk  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  the 
regeneration  of  a  sinner. 


THE  LOST  COIN.  327 

This  woman  lighted  a  himp,  and  swept  the  house, 
and  searched  diligently  until  she  found  the  piece  whicli 
she  had  lost.  Now,  the  lighting  of  the  lamp  suggests 
to  us  the  illuminating  agency  of  the  Spirit  in  bringing 
the  truth  to  hoar  upon  the  soul.  The  truth  Avhich  he 
emploj's  for  the  conversion  of  a  sinner  is  the  word  of 
God,  all  of  which  lias  been  given  by  his  own  inspira- 
tion ;  and  the  special  portion  of  that  word  wliich  ho 
uses  in  his  saving  work  is  the  wondrous  story  of  the 
cross.  "  The  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus ;  "  the  fact,  that 
"God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only  be- 
gotten Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him  should 
not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life  ; "  ^  the  faithful 
saying  tliat  "Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save 
sinners,"^  —  thi^  is  the  light  which  he  employs.  No 
new  revelations  does  he  now  bestow.  He  uses  still  this 
old  gospel,  —  the  good  news  of  salvation  through  Ilim 
"  who  died  for  our  offences,  and  rose  again  for  our  justi- 
fication." In  a  word,  the  truths  which  centre  m  the 
cross  of  Calvary  arc  those  which  the  Spirit  employs  for 
the  conversion  of  men.  It  was  so  on  the  day  of  Pente- 
cost ;  it  has  been  so  in  every  period  of  true  spiritual 
revival ;  it  has  been  so  in  every  individual  conversion. 
They  say  that  in  some  of  our  large  millinery  establish- 
ments many  needles  are  lost  in  the  course  of  the  day ; 
and  that,  in  seeking  to  recover  them,  a  young  woman, 
instead  of  going  down  upon  the  carpet,  and  wearifully 
picking  them  up  one  by  one,  takes  a  powerful  magnet, 
and,  holding  it  near  the  floor,  goes  all  around  the  room, 
attracting  to  it  each  minutest  particle  of  steel,  and  so 
recovering  all.  So,  in  searching  for  lost  souls,  the 
Holy  Spirit  goes  through  tlio  world,  em})loying  llic  mag- 
net of  the  cross.     Everywhere  he  seeks  to  draw  men  to 

1  John  iii.  16.  2  i  xim.  i.  15. 


328  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

him  by  the  attraction  of  his  love,  and  constrains  them 
"  to  live  by  the  faith  of  Him  who  loved  them,  and  gave 
himself  for  them." 

But  not  all  at  once,  —  at  least,  as  a  general  rule,  — do 
men  attend  to  and  believe  this  truth  of  the  gospel.  The 
magnet  will  do  its  work  wherever  there  are  no  neutral- 
izing elements  near ;  but  so  long  as  the  soul  is  sunk  in 
depravity,  or  engaged  in  worldly  pleasures,  or  absorbed 
in  earthly  pursuits,  it  feels  not  the  charm  of  the 
Redeemer's  love.  Hence  means  must  be  used  to  de- 
stroy the  counter  attractions  of  the  world,  which  keep 
men  from  being  sensitive  to  the  love  of  Christ.  Or, 
taking  our  language  from  the  parable,  if  the  light  of 
the  lamp  fall  immediately  upon  the  coin,  it  is  then  and 
thereby  found ;  but  if  the  piece  of  money,  having  been 
dropped  on  a  rush-covered  floor,  has  rolled  away,  and 
become  covered  by  the  straw  and  debris  of  weeks,  these 
must  be  removed  before  the  light  can  reveal  it  to  the 
seeker's  eye.  But  then  comes  the  sweeping  of  the  house. 
There  are  providential  disturbances  in  business,  or  there 
are  family  bereavements  or  personal  afflictions,  or  there 
is  the  awakening  of  the  conscience  by  the  hearing  of 
some  solemn  discourse ;  and,  as  the  result  of  these  or 
of  some  other  of  the  manifold  expedients  which  God 
the  Holy  Spirit  can  employ,  there  is  a  general  upturn- 
ing of  the  soul,  like  that  which  is  created  in  the  home 
by  the  annual  house-cleaning ;  and,  just  as,  on  such 
occasions,  many  things  which  had  been  hidden  for  a 
long  time  come  out  into  view,  and  compel  you  to  settle 
what  you  will  do  with  them,  so,  in  the  soul's  disturb- 
ance, the  long-neglected  questions  about  sin  and  salva- 
tion come  up,  and  the  man  is  impelled  to  cry,  "  What 
must  I  do  to  be  saved?"  Then,  as  some  Evangelist 
exclaims,  "  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou 


TUE  LOST  COIN.  329 

shalt  be  saved,"  he  turns  in  penitence  and  faith  to  tlie 
Redeemer ;  and  that  moment  the  Holy  Spirit  finds  and 
recovers  the  lost  soul. 

In  this  view  of  the  case,  then,  every  time  a  sinner  is 
brought  face  to  face  with  trial,  every  providential  un- 
settlement  that  disturbs  him,  or,  to  use  Jeremiah's 
expression,  every  "  emptying  from  vessel  to  vessel "  ^  to 
which  he  is  subjected,  is  a  new  sweeping  of  the  house 
by  the  Holy  Spirit  in  his  search  after  him  for  his  salva- 
tion. Do  not,  I  beseech  you,  O  sinner !  misunderstand 
God's  dealings  with  you  in  these  dispensations.  The 
more  severe  they  are,  they  are  only  the  more  impressive 
revelations  of  his  earnestness  in  seeking  for  your  high- 
est welfare.  They  are  but,  as  it  were,  the  result  of  his 
diligence  in  searching  after  you;  and,  if  now  this  is 
revealed  to  you  for  the  first  time,  oh,  let  him  find  you 
as,  with  devout  reverence  and  genuine  repentance,  you 
exclaim,  "  Lord,  I  believe :  help  thou  mine  unbelief." 

III.  Turning  now  to  the  joy  over  the  recovered  coin, 
we  find  here  one  of  the  distinctive  features  of  this  par- 
able. In  the  story  of  the  lost  sheep,  while  the  social 
character  of  the  shepherd's  gladness  is  certainly  referred 
to,  the  specialty  of  his  delight  lay  in  the  fact,  to  which 
prominence  is  given  in  the  appended  note  of  interpreta- 
tion, that  it  was  greater  than  over  the  ninety  and  nine 
which  had  never  gone  astray.  Here,  however,  the  em- 
phasis is  laid  on  the  circumstance  that  the  woman 
''  called  together  her  friends  and  neighbors,  saying,  Re- 
joice with  me ;  for  I  have  found  the  })iece  which  I  had 
lost,"  while  no  reference  is  made  to  the  nine  pieces 
which  she  had  always  possessed ;  and  the  note  of  expo- 
sition simply  reads,  "  Likewise  I  say  unto  you.  There  is 

1  Jor.  xlviii.  11. 


330  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

joj  in  the  presence  of  the  angels  of  God"  —  that  is, 
substantially,  in  the  hearts  of  God  and  of  his  angels 
—  "over  one  sinner  that  repenteth."  We  have  seen 
already,  in  our  introductory  remarks,  how  it  came  that 
the  woman's  female  friends  were  likely  to  have  special 
sympathy  with  her  in  her  delight.  But  gladness  every- 
where is  diffusive.  We  cannot  have  the  highest  kind 
of  joy  if  we  must  keep  it  to  ourselves.  There  are  cer- 
tain sorrows  which  must  find  vent  in  tears,  else  death 
will  be  the  result ;  and  in  this  connection  we  must  all 
remember  the  words  in  Tennyson's  beautiful  song, 
"  She  liiust  weep,  or  she  will  die."  But  there  is  some- 
thing similar,  also,  with  the  opposite  emotion  of  delight. 
There  are  joys  which,  if  we  may  not  share  them  with 
others,  will  seriously  injure  ourselves.  The  pent-up 
feeling  will  choke  us ;  but  the  expression  of  it  to  others 
will  give  relief  to  ourselves,  while,  if  they  are  in  any 
way  like-minded  with  us,  or  deeply  interested  in  our 
welfare,  it  will  make  them  also  sharers  of  our  ecstasy. 
Nor  is  this  all :  the  sight  of  their  gladness  will  redouble 
our  own,  and  add  to  our  permanent  happiness.  Every 
reader  of  ancient  history  remembers  the  "  Seureka  "  of 
Archimedes  after  his  great  discovery ;  and  there  is  prob- 
ably no  one  among  ourselves,  who  has  not  had  times  in 
his  own  experience,  when,  eager  for  sympathy  in  his 
joy,  he  has  gone  long  miles  to  make  it  known  to  those 
who  would  understand  and  participate  in  his  delight. 
We  want  to  be  congratulated  by  those  who  can  appre- 
ciate and  intelligently  join  with  us  in  the  gladness  of 
the  hour. 

Now,  here,  again,  we  find  in  ourselves  a  feature  of 
our  resemblance  to  God.  For  his  jo}^  also,  if  I  may  ven- 
ture to  say  so,  needs  society  to  give  it  perfection ;  and 
the  fact  that  there  are  those  beside  him  to  whom   he 


THE  LOST  COIN.  331 

can  make  known  the  story  of  each  repenting  sinner, 
and  who,  in  some  degree,  realize  the  occasion  of  his 
delight,  intensifies  his  gladness,  and  diffuses  among 
them  a  ncAv  happiness.  The  celestial  inhabitants  who 
share  with  God  his  joy  over  a  repenting  sinner  are  the 
holy  angels ;  part  of  whose  education,  if  I  may  so  say, 
consists  in  their  perception  of  the  gradual  development 
of  the  Divine  plan  for  the  salvation  of  men,  and  the 
continued  evidence  of  its  success.  Nor  let  any  one 
suppose  that  tliis  is  a  mere  fancy  of  our  own,  for  which 
there  is  no  foundation  in  Scripture  apart  from  the  words 
of  this  parable ;  for  Paul  has  said  that  "  God  hath  cre- 
ated all  things  by  Jesus  Christ,  to  the  intent  that  now 
unto  the  principalities  and  powers  in  heavenly  places, 
might  be  made  known,  through  the  chwch,  the  manifold 
wisdom  of  God."  ^  Now,  as  the  church  exists  in  the 
Avorld  for  the  salvation  of  men,  these  words  must  mean 
that  through  it  (jod  is  showing,  in  the  recovery  of  human 
souls,  his  manifold  wisdom  to  the  principalities  and 
powers  of  heaven ;  and  that  in  the  appreciation  of  his 
success,  by  those  who  know  something  of  the  difficulties 
with  which  he  had  to  contend,  and  wliich  he  overcame, 
he  has  his  highest  joy.  When  Sir  William  Thomson  let 
down  his  grappling  apparatus  from  the  deck  of  the 
"  Great  Eastern,"  into  the  dark  depths  of  the  Atlantic, 
and  succeeded  in  bringing  up  therewith  the  cable  which 
years  before  had  been  lost,  there  was,  we  may  be  sure, 
a  thrill  of  unutteralde  gladness  in  his  own  heart;  but 
when  his  fellow-electricians,  who  understood  so  well 
what  skill  was  needed  to  devise  the  means  which  he  had 
used,  crowded  round  him  to  express  their  great  delight, 
nothing  more  was  needed  to  make  his  joy  complete.  So, 
if  we  may  compare  human  things  with  divine,  the  per- 

1  Epb.  iii.  9,  10. 


332  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

ception  of  his  wisdcjin  in  the  means  which  he  has  devised 
for  the  recovery  of  lost  men,  and  the  appreciation  of  his 
success  in  the  use  of  those  means,  by  the  principalities 
and  powers  of  heaven  who  are  nearest  him,  and  know 
him  best,  is  the  very  acme  of  the  Divine  delight ;  and  we 
can  well  understand  how  Paul,  in  speaking  of  the  way 
of  salvation,  calls  it  "  the  glorious  gospel  of  the  happy 
God."  1  For  it  is  not  only  a  revelation  of  his  glory,  but 
also  a  minister  to  his  happiness.  But  I  can  go  no  far- 
ther here  ;  and  I  must  leave  it  to  yourselves,  under  the 
guidance  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  to  think  out  the  thought 
to  which  I  have  given  such  stammering  and  hesitating 
utterance.  Yet,  if  I  have  in  any  degree  brought  out 
to  you  the  meaning  of  the  Saviour's  words,  what  an 
overwhelming  rebuke  it  was  to  the  Pharisees,  to  be 
shown  how  utterly  out  of  sympathy  they  were  with 
God  and  his  angels  when  they  sneered  at  Jesus  for  re- 
ceiving sinners  and  eating  with  them  !  The  highest  in 
the  celestial  principalities  would  have  counted  it  an 
honor  to  be  employed  in  just  such  work  as  Jesus  was 
performing,  and  they  were  even  at  the  moment  con- 
templating it  with  sympathetic  interest ;  while  the  scribes 
— -for  all  so  righteous  as  they  thought  themselves  — 
stood  by  and  sneered.  My  brethren,  let  us  take  warn- 
ing from  their  case ;  and  whenever  we  catch  ourselves 
looking  with  contempt  at  missionary  work  among  the 
lowly,  let  us  see  therein  the  leaven  of  Pharisaism  in 
our  hearts,  and  take  means  to  purge  it  out. 

I  cannot  conclude,  however,  without  staying  a  few 
moments  longer  to  give  emphasis  to  two  thoughts, 
which  may  gather  up  for  us  the  lessons  of  this  parable. 
The  first  is,  that  the  recovery  of  any  sinner,  though  he 
has  been  lost  to  God,  is  possible.     No  one  is  beyond 

1  1  Tim.  i.  11.    The  word  is  ixaKapiov. 


THE  LOST  COIN.  333 

hope  here.  No  abandoned  one,  however  sunk  in  de- 
jtravity,  needs  despair  of  salvation;  and  no  worker 
in  the  service  of  Christ  needs  regard  the  conversion 
of  any  one  as  hopeless.  Paul  said,  "xVfter  me,  any 
one  ; "  and  you  remember  the  story  which  William  Jay 
tells  of  John  Newton  to  tliis  effect :  "  When  I  one  day 
called  upon  him,  he  said,  '  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  for  I 
have  just  received  a  letter  from  Bath,  and  you  may 
know  something  of  the  writer,'  mentioning  his  name. 
r  told  him  I  did,  and  that  he  had  been  for  years  a 
hearer  of  mine,  but  he  was  a  most  awful  character,  and 
almost  in  all  evil.  'But,'  says  he,  'he  writes  now  like 
a  penitent.'  I  said,  '  He  may  be  such,  but  if  he  be  I 
shall  never  despair  of  the  conversion  of  any  one  again.' 
'  Oh,'  said  he,  '  I  never  did  since  God  saved  me.'  "  ^  In 
that  hopefulness  for  the  conversion  even  of  the  very 
worst,  lay,  I  am  persuaded,  much  of  the  secret  of  New- 
ton's power ;  and  herein  also,  I  believe,  will  be  found 
much  of  the  explanation  of  the  success  of  those  who, 
from  being  themselves  among  the  chief  of  sinners,  have 
become  the  most  earnest  of  evangelists.  Let  us,  there- 
fore, in  our  work  despair  of  no  one,  and  let  no  sinner 
regard  himself  as  beyond  recovery.  Christ  is  able  to 
save  "  unto  the  uttermost."  The  piece  of  money  went 
a-missing  in  the  house,  and  so  it  could  be  found.  I 
have  rarely  seen  this  truth  presented  with  such  power 
as  in  the  well-known  lines  entitled  "  Beautiful  Snow." 
I  do  not  know  who  wrote  them ;  I  cannot  tell,  either, 
wliat  tiiith  there  is  in  tlic  stoiv  (liat  was  told  on  their 
first  i)uI}lication,  pf  their  being  found  in  manuscript 
among-  (lie  personal  effects  of  a  poor  outcast  woman 
who  died  in  a  hospital  in  Cincinnati :  but  tlioy  arc  all 
exquisite,  and  I  reproduce  here  these  three  stanzas,  that 

1  Autobiography  and  Remiuisceuces  of  Rev.  "William  Jay,  p.  275. 


334  THE  PARABLE 8   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

they  may  rivet  in  your  memories  the  truth  on  which  I 
am  now  insisting :  — 

"  Once  I  was  pure  as  the  snow,  but  I  fell, 
Fell  like  the  snow  —  but  from  heaven  to  hell ; 
Fell  to  be  trampled  as  filth  of  the  street. 
Fell  to  be  scoffed,  to  be  spit  on  and  beat; 

Pleading  —  cursing  —  dreading  to  die, 
Selling  my  soul  to  whoever  would  buy ; 
Dealing  in  shame  for  a  morsel  of  bread ; 
Hating  the  living,  and  fearing  the  dead. 
Merciful  God !  have  I  fallen  so  low  ? 
And  yet  I  was  once  like  the  beautiful  snow. 

Once  I  was  fair  as  the  beautiful  snow. 
With  an  eye  like  a  crystal,  a  heart  like  its  glow  ; 
Once  I  was  loved  for  my  innocent  grace,  — 
Flattered  and  sought  for  the  charms  of  my  face ! 

Father  —  mother  —  sisters,  —  all, 
God  and  myself,  I  have  lost  by  my  fall ; 
The  veriest  wretch  that  goes  shivering  by 
Will  make  a  wide  sweep  lest  I  wander  too  nigh ; 
For  all  that  is  on  or  about  me,  I  know, 
There  is  nothing  that's  pm-e  as  the  beautiful  snow. 

Helpless  and  foul  as  the  trampled  snow, 
Sinner,  despair  not !     Christ  stoopeth  low 
To  rescue  the  soul  that  is  lost  in  sin, 
And  raise  it  to  life  and  enjoyment  again. 

Groaning  —  bleeding  —  dying  for  thee. 
The  Crucified  hung  on  the  cursed  tree  ! 
His  accents  of  pity  fall  soft  on  thine  ear. 
'  Is  there  mercy  for  me?     Will  he  heed  my  weak  prayer? 
O  God !  in  the  stream  that  for  sinners  did  flow. 
Wash  me,  and  I  shall  be  whiter  than  snow  ! '  " 

Take  to  thyself,  O  sinner,  the  message  of  these  lines, 
and  make  for  thyself  the  prayer  with  which  they  con- 
clude.    No  matter  how  aggravated  thine  iniquities  have 


THE  LOST  COIN.  335 

been,  or  how  deeply  depraved  thy  spirit  may  be,  there 
is  mercy  now  for  thee.  Thou  mayst  be  accepted  and 
renewed  if  only  thou  wilt  betake  thyself  in  penitence 
to  God  in  Christ ;  for  still  the  proclamation  is  in  force, 
"  Let  the  wicked  forsake  his  way,  and  the  unrighteous 
man  his  thoughts;  and  let  him  return  unto  the  Lord, 
and  he  will  have  mercy  upon  him,  and  to  our  God,  for 
he  will  abundantly  pardon.  For  my  thoughts  are  not 
your  thoughts,  neither  are  your  ways  my  ways,  saith 
the  Lord.  For  as  the  heavens  are  high  above  the  earth, 
so  are  my  ways  higher  than  your  ways,  and  my  thoughts 
than  your  thoughts."  ^ 

Finally,  let  us  learn  that  the  most  Godlike  work  in 
which  man  can  engage  on  earth  is  that  of  seeking  to 
save  the  lost.  These  two  parables  might  fitly  be  in- 
scribed with  these  words  as  their  title,  "  The  Seeking 
God."  They  tell  us  of  the  Divine  yearning  after  and 
search  for  the  lost  soul  of  man,  and  the  Divine  joy  over 
its  recovery.  But  they  put  special  emphasis  on  the 
search.  The  great  work  and  happiness  of  Godhead  are 
connected  with  the  salvation  of  lost  souls.  Do  you 
want  to  be  like  God  ?  Do  you  want  to  be  a  sharer  in 
the  loftiest  joy  which  even  Deity  can  know?  Then  go 
forth  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which  is  lost.  Care 
n(5t  what  sacrifices  it  may  involve,  or  what  discomforts 
it  may  entail  upon  you.  Never  mind  though  it  may 
require  you  to  go  to  dens  of  infamy  or  haunts  of  sin. 
These  are  not  so  far  beneath  you  as  this  evil  world  was 
beneath  the  eternal  Son  of  God  when  he  came  to  earth" 
for  us  men  and  for  our  salvation.  Go,  and  he  will  take 
care  of  you,  and  give  you  success.  John  Gough,  in  one 
of  his  stirring  orations,  tells  us  liow  a  fashionable  lady 
who  had  dropped  a  diamond  ring  upon  the  street  did 

1  Isa.  Iv.  7-'J. 


336  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

not  hesitate  to  thrust  her  ungloved  hand  into  the  gut- 
ter, that  she  might  seek  for  and  recover  her  precious 
ornament ;  and  shall  not  we,  believing  in  the  protecting 
grace  of  God,  expose  ourselves,  if  need  be,  to  contact 
with  moral  and  spiritual  impurity,  if  only  we  may  be 
instrumental  in  recovering  the  immortal  jewel  of  a 
human  soul,  and  restoring  it  to  Him  to  whom  of  right 
it  belongs  ?  The  great  English  novelist  has  no  more 
pathetic  chapter  in  his  writings  than  that  which  tells 
how  the  big,  burly,  honest  sailor  set  out  from  his  boat- 
house  on  the  Yarmouth  shore  to  seek  his  lost  Emily ; 
and  when  we  shall  feel  about  sinners  as  he  did  about 
her,  when  we  shall  go  forth  in  a  search  after  them  as 
earnest,  as  persevering,  and  as  loving  as  his  was,  then 
we  shall  "  begin  to  be  disciples  "  of  Him  who,  "  though 
he  was  rich,  for  our  sakes  became  poor,  that  we  through 
his  poverty  might  be  rich ; "  and  in  our  success  we  shall 
know  something  of  the  joy  that  is  in  heaven  "  over  one 
sinner  that  repenteth." 


THE  PRODIGAL   SON.  337 


XXII. 

THE  PRODIGAL  SON. 

(Luke  XV.  11-24.) 

One  of  the  greatest  preachers  of  the  gospel  that  ever 
lived  has  left  behind  him  a  book,  almost  as  widely 
known  as  "  The  Pilgrim's  Progress "  which  came  from 
the  same  hand,  which  he  has  called  "Come  and  Wel- 
come." We  have  often  had  occasion  to  dwell  upon  the 
"cowe,"  and  to  repeat  from  this  pulpit  the  gracious  invi- 
tations which  God  in  Christ  has  addressed  to  sinners  of 
mankind  ;  but  to-night  our  attention  will  be  directed 
ultimately  to  the  '•'■welcome''''  which  he  gives  to  sinners 
on  their  return  to  him,  as  that  is  illustrated  to  us  in 
tliis,  which  has,  by  common  consent,  come  to  be  regarded 
as  "  the  pearl  of  the  parables." 

Like  those  by  which  it  is  immediately  preceded,  it 
was  designed  originally  tu  rebuke  the  cold-hearted  and 
self-righteous  exclusiveness  of  the  scribes  and  Phari- 
sees; and  to  show  them,  that,  in  despising  Jesus  for 
receiving  sinners  and  eating  with  them,  they  were  alto- 
gether out  of  harmony  with  Him  in  whose  presence 
there  is  joy  over  one  isinner  tliat  repenteth.  But  it 
differs  from  them  in  that,  while  thc}^  illustrate  the 
earnestness  with  which  (Jod  seeks  the  lost  sinner,  it 
describes  the  result  of  that  search  in  the  voluntary 
return  of  the  sinner  himself.  They  view  the  matter 
from  the  Divine  side,  and  let  us  see  the  efibrts  which 


338  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

God  has  put  forth  through  the  incarnation  of  his  Son, 
and  the  agency  of  his  Spirit,  to  recover  that  which  has 
been  lost.  This  looks  at  the  history,  if  I  may  so  call 
it,  from  the  human  side,  and  shows  us  the  sinner  rising 
and  returning  to  his  Father.  Yet,  as  we  said  in  our 
last  discourse,  these  are  not  so  much  two  separate  things 
as  two  ways  of  looking  at  one  and  the  same  thing. 
Admirably  has  Mr.  Arnot  said  here,  "  It  is  not  that 
some  of  fallen  human  kind  are  saved  after  the  manner 
of  the  strayed  sheep,  and  others  after  the  manner  of 
the  prodigal  son ;  not  that  the  Saviour  bears  one  wan- 
derer home  by  his  power,  and  that  another,  of  his  own 
accord,  arises  and  retvirns  to  his  Father.  Both  these 
processes  are  accomplished  in  every  conversion.  The 
man  comes,  yet  Christ  brings  him ;  Christ  brings  him, 
yet  he  comes."  ^ 

Again,  in  the  two  preceding  parables,  little  or  nothing 
is  said  as  to  the  sinner's  departure  from  God,  and  his 
misery  and  degradation  in  his  estrangement  from  God. 
The  loss  which  they  describe  is  rather  that  which  is 
sustained  by  God ;  and  scarcely  any  hint  is  'given,  in 
either  of  them,  of  that  which  is  incurred  by  the  sinner 
himself.  Here,  however,  the  deplorable  condition  of 
man  away  from  God,  and  in  the  far  land  of  sin,  is  set 
in  the  forefront;  and  nowhere  in  the  whole  range  of 
literature,  whether  sacred  or  secular,  have  we  a  more 
vivid  exemplification  of  the  awful  truth  that  "  the  way 
of  transgressors  is  hard  "  than  that  which  is  presented 
to  us  m  this  matchless  story. 

In  the  episode  of  the  elder  brother,  too,  we  have 
something  unique,  and  peculiar  to  this  parable.  In  the 
former  allegories,  there  is  no  jarring  or  dissonant  note 
in  the  chorus  of  rejoicing  over  the  finding  of  that  which 

1  Arnot  on  the  Parables,  p.  428. 


THE  PRODIGAL   SON.  339 

had  been  lost ;  but  here,  that,  in  the  mirror  which  Jesus 
held  up,  the  scribes  and  Pharisees  might  see  their  own 
likeness  as  well  as  his,  we  have  one  surly  and  sour  dis- 
sentient, who  virtually  says  to  his  father  what  they  had 
said  to  Jesus,  "  This  man  receiveth  sinners,  and  eateth 
with  them." 

Without  lingering  longer,  however,  on  these  gen- 
eral matters,  let  us  look  at  the  incidents  of  the  story 
itself. 

I.  There  is,  first,  a  departure  from  home.  "  A  certain 
man  had  two  sons  ;  and  the  younger  of  them  said  unto 
his  father.  Father,  give  me  the  portion  of  goods  that 
falleth  to  me ;  and  he  divided  unto  them  his  living. 
And  not  many  days  after,  the  younger  son  gathered 
all  together,  and  took  his  journey  into  a  far  country." 
What  a  heartless  youth  this  is  !  He  cannot  wait  until,  \^ 
in  the  course  of  events,  his  father  dies ;  but  he  must 
have  his  portion  now.  His  case,  therefore,  is  not  like 
that  of  him  who,  encouraged  and  commanded  by  his 
father,  goes  to  some  new  land,  there  to  carry  on  busi- 
ness for  his  parent  and  in  conjunction  with  liim,  and 
who,  regretting  the  necessit}^  for  his  departure,  carries 
with  him  the  heart  of  a  son,  which  beats  continually  in 
love  and  loyalty  to  his  home.  There  would  have  been 
nothing  wrong  in  that.  Indeed,  just  in  that  way  some 
of  the  noblest  things  ever  wrouglit  by  men  have  been 
performed.  But  in  this  youth's  heart  there  had  been  a 
very  serious  estrangement  from  his  father,  even  before 
he  left  the  homestead.  He  had  become  weary  of  the 
wholesome  restraints  of  the  parental  household.  He 
wanted  to  be  his  own  master.  He  desired  to  be  inde- 
pendent of  all  authority  and  interference.  A  son  in 
name,  he  had  already  ceased  to  be  a  son  in  heart ;  and 


340  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

SO  he  was  eager  to  be  gone  from  a  place  whose  whole 
atmosphere  had  become  to  him  most  disagreeable.  See- 
ing all  this,  his  father  gave  him  what  he  wanted,  and 
let  him  go  his  way.  And  as  it  was  Jiome  he  hated,  so, 
the  farther  from  home  he  could  get,  he  thought  he 
would  be  the  better  off ;  and  therefore  he  went  into  "  a 
far  country." 

Now,  this  history  has  often  been  literally  repeated; 
and  I  cannot  help  sajdng,  that,  if  there  should  be  here 
one  youth  meditating  the  taking  of  such  a  course,  I 
would  have  him  pause  a  little,  and  reflect  on  the  very 
commonplace  truth,  that,  go  where  he  will,  he  will 
never  find  another  father  or  another  mother.  Value, 
then,  your  home.  Nip  those  unfilial  feelings  in  the 
bud;  and  remember  that  Divine  command,  the  first  in 
the  Decalogue  with  promise,  "  Honor  thy  father  and  thy 
mother,  that  thy  days  may  be  long  upon  the  land  which 
the  Lord  thy  God  giveth  thee." 
\j  But  it  was  not  for  its  literal  truth  and  pathos,  ex- 
quisite as  these  are,  that  this  story  was  told.  It  has  a 
spiritual  significance  underlying  its  external  incidents, 
and  every  man  may  see  himself  in  this  loi'odigal.  For 
what  is  sin,  but  a  departure  from  God,  a  determination 
to  be  independent  of  God,  a  casting-off  of  our  allegiance 
to  God,  a  taking  of  ourselves  into  our  own  hands,  and 
a  resolution  to  be  our  own  God  ?  That  is  the  essence 
of  all  moral  evil,  and  the  germ  of  which  all  other 
iniquities  are  but  the  development.  Very  cunningly 
did  Satan  say  to  our  first  parents,  "Ye  shall  be  as 
gods;"  and  still  this  self-deification  lies  at  the  root  of 
our  alienation  of  heart  from  him,  and  rebellion  of  life 
against  him.  And  see  how,  by  the  dowry  of  free  will, 
God  gives  to  man  the  liberty  of  choosing  whether  he 
will  abide  with  him  or  not.     Ah !  it  is  an  awful  thing 


THE  PRODIGAL   SON.  341 

to  have  this  power  of  choice ;  and,  if  we  please,  we  have 
the  liberty  of  leaving  God.  We  may  determine,  if  we 
choose,  to  become  "  lords  of  ourselves,"  and  to  take  our- 
selves out  of  God's  family.  But  we  shall  soon  discover 
that  to  be  "  a  heritage  of  woe."  And  we  need  not  en- 
tail that  upon  "ourselves  simply  to  assert  our  liberty; 
i'or,  equally  by  our  choice,  we  may  decide  to  give 
to  God  the  love  of  our  hearts  and  the  loyalty  of  our 
lives. 

But  if  we  do  determine  to  leave  him,  let  us  see  the 
guilt  which  we  incur  thereby.  For  it  is  the  leaving  of 
a  Father.  Some,  indeed,  will  have  it  that  there  was  no 
revelation  of  God's  Fatherhood  until  Christ  came  into 
the  world.  But  surely,  in  the  relationship  between  the 
prodigal  and  his  father  here,  we  have  a  type  of  that 
which  existed  between  God  and  man,  before  the  fall. 
If  that  be  not  so,  then,  for  any  spiritual  significance  in 
the  pln-ase,  we  might  as  well  read,  "  a  certain  king  had 
two  subjects;"  or,  "a  certain  master  had  two  servants." 
But  who  does  not  see,  that,  if  we  so  read,  we  should 
take  away  the  whole  power  and  pathos  of  the  story? 
Hence  we  cannot  but  think  that  we  have  here  a  refer- 
ence to  God's  original  fatherly  relationship  to  the  human 
race ;  and  while  that  explains  why  he  was  so  anxious  to 
get  his  lost  children  back,  it  also  deepens  the  guilt  of 
their  departure  from  him.  For,  thus  regarded,  the  sin- 
ner's offence  is  not  merely  that  of  disobedience  to  a  mas- 
ter, or  treason  against  a  sovereign ;  but  it  is  also,  in 
combination  with  both  of  tliese,  ingratitude  to  a  Father. 
We  condemn  as  the  most  culpable  of  all  things,  the 
casting-off  of  a  father  by  a  son  ;  and  we  have  no  lan- 
guage strong  enough  to  express  our  detestation  of  the 
conduct  of  Absalom  to  David.  Yet,  in  God's  sight,  we 
have  been  doing,  as  sinners,  the  same  thing ;  and  we 


342  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

have  given  him  occasion  to  say  of  us,  as  he  did  of  Israel 
of  old,  "  I  have  nourished  and  brought  up  children, 
and  they  have  rebelled  against  me." 

II.  But  now  look  at  the  ultimate  destination  of  this 
youth.  "  He  took  his  journey  into  a  far  country,  and 
there  wasted  his  substance  with  riotous  living.  And 
when  he  had  spent  all,  there  arose  a  mighty  famine  in 
that  land,  and  he  began  to  be  in  want.  And  he  went 
and  joined  himself  to  a  citizen  of  that  country ;  and  he 
sent  him  into  his  fields  to  feed  swine.  And  he  would 
fain  have  filled  his  belly  with  the  husks  that  the  swine 
did  eat,  and  no  man  gave  unto  him."  He  is  now  away 
from  all  restraint.  He  can  do  as  he  will,  and  see  what 
he  wills  to  do.  Thus  it  was,  in  all  probability,  with  him. 
He  became  connected  with  evil  companions.  They  led 
him  gradually  into  wicked  courses.  As  long  as  his  money 
lasted,  and  they  could  make  any  thing  out  of  him,  they 
were  assiduous  in  their  attentions,  and  superlative  in 
their  flatteries.  When,  however,  his  means  were  gone, 
they  left  him  to  himself.  Then  famine  arose ;  and  to 
keep  himself  from  starvation,  he  went  and  joined  him- 
self to  —  or,  as  the  word  might  perhaps  be  better  ren- 
dered, glued  himself  to,  foisted  himself  upon ;  or,  in 
the  old  Scottish  vernacular,  became  a  sorner  on  —  a  citi- 
zen who  sent  him  out  (oh,  horror  of  horrors  to  a  Jew !) 
to  feed  his  swine  ;  and  so  dreadful  was  his  hunger,  that 
he  would  gladly  have  fed  on  the  pods  of  the  carob-tree 
with  which  they  were  foddered  and  fattened.  So  he  who 
had  fretted  and  chafed  over  being  a  son  at  home,  subject 
to  the  household  rules,  actually  becomes  a  servant;  nay, 
worse  than  that,  —  a  degraded  loafer  hanging  about  the 
house  of  one  who,  to  get  rid  of  his  persistent  appeals, 
sends  him  out  to  be  a  swineherd.     He  wanted  liberty ; 


THE  PRODIGAL   SON.  343 

and  he  has  got  the  lowest  drudgery,  Avith  unsatisfied 
hunger  as  its  constant  accompaniment. 

Here,  too,  we  may  say  that  this  history  lias  been  often 
literally  fulfilled.  There  is  scarcely  a  week  that  some 
poor,  disillusioned  man,  who  left  his  Scottish  home  to 
seek  relief  from  parental  restraint  in  this  far  country, 
does  not  come  begging  at  my  door  for  bread ;  for  even 
in  this  life  Satan  often  gives  a  scorpion  in  the  end,  for 
the  egg  that  he  held  up  before  his  victim  in  the  begin- 
ning. 

But  we  must  not  allow  ourselves  to  forget,  in  the  lit- 
eral truthfulness  of  the  story,  its  allegorical  significance. 
And  when  we  regard  that,  we  have  clearly  set  before 
us  the  three  stages  of  what  we  may  call  the  sinner's 
progress. 

The  Ai'st  is  riotous  joy.  We  must  not  keep  that  alto-  ' 
gether  out  of  view.  There  is  a  pleasure  in  sin,  of  a 
sort ;  for  if  that  were  not  so,  men  would  not  be  found 
committing  it  at  all.  There  must  be  some  kind  of  ex- 
hilaration in  the  flowing  bowl,  or  in  the  wild  thrill  of 
sensual  gratification.  "  Stolen  waters  are  sweet,"  per- 
haps just  because  they  are  stolen ;  but  the  sweetness 
does  not  last  long,  for  it  turns  to  bitterness  in  the 
bell3^  For  a  time,  however,  that  is  not  perceived.  So 
bright  is  the  glare  of  the  tinsel,  that  the  baseness  of  the 
metal  which  it  covers  is  not  seen  all  at  once.  So  loud 
is  the  noise  of  the  revelry,  that  for  a  season  "  the  still 
small  voice  "  of  conscience  is  not  heard.  So  S2)arkling  y 
is  the  wine  in  the  cup,  that  the  coil  of  the  adder  at  the 
bottom  is  not  visible.  But  by  and  by,  when  the  effer- 
vescence has  ceased,  the  dread  reality  will  appear ;  and 
when  it  comes,  the  sting  of  the  serpent  will  be  terrible. 

And  this  brings  us  to  the  second  stage  in  the  sinner's 
progress.     He  has  "  wasted  his  substance  "  by  his  course. 


344  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUE   SAVIOUR. 

Ah !  how  true  that  is !  Sin  is  tlie  most  expensive  thing 
possible.  It  wastes  money.  It  wears  tlie  body  to 
decay.  But,  bad  as  these  things  are,  there  are  even 
worse  behind ;  for  it  blights  the  intellect  and  withers 
the  moral  nature  of  the  man.  It  weakens  the  will ;  it 
blunts  the  conscience ;  it  hardens  the  heart.  It  dries 
up  all  the  finer  feelings  of  the  soul,  so  that  the  wife 
turns  against  the  husband,  and  the  husband  against  the 
wife ;  the  son  against  the  father,  and  the  father  against 
the  son  ;  while  ultimately  all  regard  for  truth  and  holi- 
ness and  purity  is  gone.  Never  shall  I  forget  how  a 
wife,  speaking  once  of  the  weakness  of  her  husband's 
will  before  the  fascination  of  strong  drink  and  evil 
companions,  said,  "  He  used  to  be  a  firm  and  manly 
fellow,  but  he's  a  bairn  nooT  Yes,  a  child  in  weakness, 
but  alas  I  not  in  innocence  ;  for  sin  had  shorn  the  locks 
of  his  strength,  and  the  Philistines  in  the  shape  of  his 
own  appetites  had  made  a  sport  of  him.  Ah  me  !  where 
has  the  Father's  portion  gone  in  such  a  case  ?  Where 
are  the  good  gifts  of  God  to  the  soul  now  ?  and  who,  in 
"sinners  like  these,  can  discern  even  the  faintest  trace 
of  the  image  of  God  which  once  they  bore  ? 

But  worse  yet.  When  this  degradation  has  been 
reached,  there  is  still  a  lower  deep  into  which  the  sinner 
must  descend ;  for  sin  is  an  enslaving  tldng.,  and  that  is 
the  last  stage  of  his  progress  here.  It  becomes  the 
master  of  the  man  who  indulges  in  it,  and  sets  him  to 
the  doing  of  the  hardest  drudgery.  It  hires  him  out, 
as  it  were,  to  feed  swine,  leaving  him  to  feed  along 
with  them.  That  which  was  at  first  a  joy  becomes  in 
the  end  a  bondage.  That  which  was  at  first  a  pleasant 
companion  becomes  at  length  a  cruel  taskmaster,  who 
compels  him  to  make  bricks  without  straw,  and  some- 
times even  without  clay.     I  have  read  in  the  memoirs 


THE  PRODIGAL   SON.  345 

of  a  detective,  how  t)iic'e,  Iniviug  discovered  his  man, 
he  joined  himself  to  liim  as  a  boon  companion,  went 
witli  him  to  his  haunts,  secured  his  confidence  by  long 
fellowship,  until  at  length,  when  all  suspicion  had  been 
allayed,  he  got  him,  as  a  mere  jest,  to  try  on  a  pair  of 
handcuffs,  and  then,  snapping  the  spring  that  locked 
them,  he  took  him,  all  helpless  as  he  was,  an  easy  prey. 
So  sin  does  with  its  victim.  It  first  ministers  to  his 
enjoyment,  then  drowns  his  vigilance,  and  then  leads 
him -away  in  helpless  bondage  to  utter  ruin.  O  ye 
who  are  setting  out  on  this  awful  course,  allured  by 
glowing  promises,  let  me  beseech  you  to  pause  and 
ponder  what  shall  be  "  at  the  last"  "  at  the  last,''  "  at  the 
last !  "  Oh,  think  of  that,  and  leave  it  off  before  it  be 
meddled  with  ! 

III.  But  let  us  contemplate  now  the  prodigal's  reso- 
lution and  return.  "And  when  he  came  to  himself,  he 
said,  How  many  hired  servants  of  my  father's  have 
bread  enough  and  to  spare,  and  I  perish  with  hunger ! 
I  will  arise  and  go  to  my  father,  and  I  will  say  unto 
him,  Father,  I  have  sinned  against  heaven  and  before 
thee,  and  am  no  more  worthy  to  be  called  thy  son : 
make  me  as  one  of  thy  hired  servants.  And  he  arose, 
and  went  to  his  father."  As  he  sat  in  his  starvation 
and  degradation,  the  memory  of  that  home  which  he  had 
left  in  his  pride  and  self-will  came  back  upon  him  and 
roused  him  to  reflection.  The  very  abjectness  of  his 
misery  led  him  ultimatel}^  to  resolve  to  return  to  his 
father's  house.  Till  now  he  had  kept  on  hoping  that 
"  something  would  turn  up  ;  "  but  when  the  swine  were 
preferred  to  him,  and  no  man  gave  unto  him,  it  was  all 
over  with  him.  He  had  then  to  decide  between  death 
by  starvation,  and  returning  to  his  father ;  and  though 


V 


346  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUll   SAVIOUR. 

for  a  time  shame  and  pride  would  keep  him  from  taking 
the  decisive  step,  at  length  hunger  overcame  him,  and 
he  said,  "  I  will  arise  and  go  back."  And  it  is  no  sooner 
said  than  done,  for  "  he  arose,  and  went  to  his  father." 
V/'He  did  not  say,  "  I  will  wait  until  I  am  a  little  more 
respectable."  He  did  not  allow  himself  to  think  that 
he  would  be  laughed  at  by  those  who  had  known  him 
there,  or  that  he  would,  perhaps,  be  taunted  by  his 
father  with  his  folly.  All  these  things  were  banished 
from  his  mind  by  the  stress  of  the  emergency  in  which 
he  found  himself;  and  he  remembered  only,  that,  while 
he  was  perishing  with  hunger,  there  was  bread  enough 
and  to  spare  at  home.  So  he  started  up,  and,  leaving 
his  guzzling  herd  to  take  care  of  themselves,  he  set  out 
on  his  homeward  way. 

This,  also,  has  often  been  literally  repeated  in  the 
histories  of  individual  men.  But  we  may  not  dwell  on 
that ;  for,  still  seeking  a  spiritual  significance  in  the 
allegory,  we  find  here  the  story  of  the  conversion  of 
a  soul.  And  when  we  view  it  thus,  observe  the  deep 
significance  of  the  words,  "  when  he  came  to  himself." 
Some  would  take  that  expression  to  mean,  that  he  was 
beside  himself,  or  insane,  and  that  now  he  came  to  a 
sound  mind.  But  if  he  were  insane,  he  was  afflicted 
with  that  "moral  insanity"  of  which  we  heard  so  much 
during  the  trial  of  Guiteau,  and  of  which  Dr.  Fordyce 
Barker  of  this  city  said  so  epigrammatically  and  so 
truly,  "  Moral  insanity  is  wickedness."  I  rather  think, 
therefore,  that  we  must  interpret  these  words  to  mean 
that  all  this  while  he  had  been  beneath  himself,  and 
that  now  for  the  first  time  he  arose  to  the  life  that  was 
worthy  of  his  father's  son.  When  he  came  to  what  he 
should  have  been  before  he  left  his  home,  when  he  saw 
things  in  their  true  light,  and  ascended  to  his  proper 


THE  PRODIGAL   SON.  347 

self,  he  said,  "I  will  go  to  my  father."  Now,  in  the 
same  way,  every  sinner  is  living  beneath  his  proper  self. 
His  higher  nature  is,  as  it  were,  dormant  in  him.  He 
has  a  spiritual  faculty  which  allies  him  with  God,  and 
which,  as  the  holiest  part  of  his  nature,  is  most  really 
and  truly  himself.  But  he  is  not  conscious  that  he  has 
it.  It  is  virtually  dead  within  him.  He  has  overlaid 
it  with  trespasses  and  sins.  He  is  not  himself.  I  do 
not  mean,  of  course,  that  his  personal  identity  is  gone, 
but,  ratlier,  that  the  noblest  part  of  his  nature  is  unoccu- 
pied by  him.  He  lives,  so  to  say,  on  the  ground-floor  of 
his  soul-house.  He  has  never  gone  up  into  the  higher ; 
and  that  part  of  his  nature  which  was  intended  to  be 
its  crowning  glory,  and  which  allies  him  to  heaven, 
is  shut  up  and  tenantless,  like  a  dusty  attic.  But  at 
his  conversion  he  comes  to  his  true  self.  New  thoughts 
stir  within  his  soul,  new  feelings  vibrate  in  his  bosom. 
He  begins  to  see  what  before  had  been  to  him  as  i^  land- 
scape is  to  one  that  is  blind.  It  is  not  that  new  things 
are  called  into  existence  outside  of  him,  f(n'  all  things 
are  there  as  they  were  before.  The  only  difference  is, 
that  his  eyes  have  been  opened  to  see  them  ;  and  the 
wonder  of  his  whole  subsequent  life  is,  that  he  never 
saw  them  until  then.  He  perceives  now  the  guilt,  the 
degradation,  the  danger,  of  sin ;  and  determines  to  re- 
turn unto  the  Lord  with  the  expression  of  penitence  and 
the  prayer  for  acceptance. 

The  parable  does  not  tell  us  an}'  thing  of  the  manner 
in  which,  or  the  agent  by  whom,  this  great  change  is 
wrought  out  in  him.  But  elsewhere  we  learn  that  it 
is  wrought  by  the  power  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  througli  the 
belief  of  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus ;  and  we  must  bear 
that  in  mind  throughout  our  consideration  of  the  sub- 
ject.    We  are  looking  at  the  human  side,  and  all  that 


348  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

is  done  on  the  Divine  side  must  here  be  taken  for 
granted.  Now,  the  first  evidence  a  sinner  gives  that 
1/  his  eyes  are  opened  is  in  his  perception  of  his  misery. 
"  I  perish  with  hunger."  Never  before  had  this  youth 
allowed  himself  to  think  that  death  by  starvation  was 
to  be  the  result  if  he  remained  in  the  far  land ;  but  so 
soon  as  that  became  apparent,  he  took  his  resolution 
to  arise.  Now,  it  is  the  same  with  the  sinner  and  his 
return  to  God.  I  believe  that  if  we  could  narrow  his 
choice  to  one  or  other  of  these  alternatives,  everlasting 
perdition  as  the  consequence  of  sin,  or  eternal  salvation 
through  faith  hi  Christ  and  repentance  toward  God,  he 
would  not  hesitate  as  to  his  decision.  But  because  he 
persists  in  believing  that  he  shall  in  some  way  escape, 
even  if  he  should  persist  in  his  course,  he  continues  in- 
different to  the  statements  of  the  gospel.  He  imagines 
tliat  somehow  or  other,  he  hardly  knows  how,  in  spite 
of  all  he  is  and  all  he  has  done,  he  will  elude  his  cloom; 
and  so  he  goes  thoughtlessly  on.  He  believes  the  Devil's 
first  lie,  "  Ye  shall  not  surely  die  ;  "  and  in  the  faith  of 
that  he  remains  in  the  "  far  land."  But  when,  by  the 
working  in  him  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  through  the  truth, 
he  comes  to  himself,  all  these  deceptions  are  swept 
away.  He  sees  only  the  terrible  fact,  "  I  perish ;  "  and 
then  comes  the  revelation  of  God's  love  to  him  in 
Christ,  the  belief  of  which  moves  him  to  repentance. 
You  can  do  no  good  with  him  until  he  sees,  that  left  to 
himself,  and  away  from  God,  he  is  eternally  undone ; 
but,  once  awakened  to  that  fact,  he  is  eager  to  cry, 
'"What  must  I  do  to  be  saved?"  When  he  can  say, 
"  I  perish,"  he  exclaims  also,  "  Lord,  save  me  I  "  And  he 
does  not  make  long  delay ;  but,  realizing  his  situation 
to  the  full,  lie  exclaims,  "  I  will  return  unto  my  Father, 
and  will  say  unto  him,  Father,  I  have  sinned  before 


THE  PRODIGAL   SON.  849 

heaven  and  in  thy  sight,  and  am  no  more  worthy  to  be 
called  thy  son.     Make  me  as  one  of  thy  hired  servants." 

Now,  taking  this  as  representing  "the  penitent's 
progress,"  one  or  two  things  need  to  be  noted  as  sug- 
gested by  it. 

/  In  the  first  place,  there  is  unreserved  confession  of  ^ 
sin.  He  does  not  soften  matters,  and  speak  of  his 
"  faults  "  and  "  failings."  He  does  not  say,  "  I  have 
been  a  little  wild."  But  he  puts  the  plain  truth  forth 
in  all  its  hideousness:  "  I  have  sinned^  Neither,  again, 
does  he  cast  the  blame  on  others.  He  does  not  say, 
"  So-and-so  led  me  astray  ; "  "  If  it  had  not  been  for  the 
companions  by  whom  I  was  surrounded,  I  had  never 
come  to  this ; "  or,  "  If  I  had  only  been  in  other  circum- 
stances, I  woidd  have  kept  myself  from  iniquity."  But 
he  takes  all  the  blame  to  himself.  His  language  is,  "/ 
have  sinned  :  the  guilt  is  mine.  I  have  no  wish  to 
deny  it,  or  to  explain  it  away.  I  am  ashamed  of  myself, 
and  '  am  no  more  worthy  to  be  called  thy  son.' " 

But,  again,  the  enormit}^  of  his  wickedness  "  before 
heaven "  is  that  which  most  distresses  him.  He  had 
brought  many  evils  on  himself;  he  had  inflicted  great 
injuries  upon  others  :  but  that  which  most  burdens  him 
new  is,  that  he  has  sinned  against  diod  his  Father,  who 
has  done  so  much  for  him,  and  has  even,  after  and  above 
all,  sent  liis  Son  into  the  world  for  his  salvation.  This 
is  painful  to  him  in  the  extreme,  and  he  can  do  nothing 
but  weep  over  it ;  but  his  tears,  in  the  estimation  of 
God,  are  of  more  value  than  glittering  diamonds,  for 
they  tell  him  that  his  wandering  son  is  now  returning. 
This  is  true  penitence.  This  is  the  broken  spirit  which 
is  to  God  a  pleasing  sacrifice.  This  is  the  contrite  heart 
which  the  Lord  will  nt)t  despise. 

But,  looking  yet  more  minutcl}^  at  these  words,  we 


350  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

find  in  them  a  determination  to  personal  exertion.  "/ 
tcill  arise  and  go.'''  The  prodigal  did  not  wait  until 
some  one  else  should  come  and  carry  him  to  his  home. 
He  was  fully  persuaded,  that,  if  he  ever  reached  his 
father's  house,  it  could  only  be  by  travelling  the  dis- 
tance for  himself:  so  "he  arose  and  went."  Now,  it  is 
similar  with  the  sinner.  Though  the  distance  between 
him  and  God  is  not  physical,  but  moral,  yet,  if  he  would 
be  saved,  there  mu^lSe  a  putting-forth  of  his  own  per- 
sonal agency.  He  does  not  require  to  rise  from  the 
place  where  he  is,  and  go  away  to  some  distant  country, 
in  order  to  return  to  God.  He  may  pass  through  the 
whole  transition  while  yet  he  is  in  one  and  the  same 
earthly  spot.  The  "going"  is  spiritual.  It  is  the  restor- 
ing of  his  heart  to  God ;  the  giving-back  of  his  love 
and  loyalty  and  service  to  his  heavenly  Father ;  the 
surrender  to  God  of  the  sovereignty  or  lordship  of  him- 
self, which  he  had  determined  at  the  first  to  keep.  Now, 
that  is  his  own  act ;  and  in  that  we  have  the  consumma- 
tion of  conversion.  No  doubt,  as  I  have  said,  the  Holy 
Spirit  is  in  it  all.  Yet  the  soul  gives  itself  back  to  God  ; 
and  we  must  beware,  lest  we  delay  this  self-renunciation 
on  the  plea  of  "waiting  for  the  Spirit."  That  would 
be  just  as  foolish  in  us  as  it  would  have  been  in  the 
prodigal  here  to  have  delayed  until  some  one  came  and 
carried  him  home.  Hence,  if  we  wish  the  Holy  Spirit 
to  work  in  us  and  with  us,  we  must  ourselves  make  this 
self-surrender ;  and,  when  we  have  done  that,  we  shall 
discover  that  he  has  been  beforehand  Avith  us,  and  has 
already  anticipated  us  with  his  quickening  grace. 
y  Finally,  here,  this  resolution  was  promptly  acted  upon. 
"  He  arose,  and  went  to  his  father."  Just  as  he  was, 
he  set  out  on  his  homeward  way.  He  did  not  say,  "  I 
must  wash  myself,  and  change  my  raiment,  and  then 


THE  PRODIGAL   SON.  351 

start  out."     If   he  had  mused  in  that  fashion,  he  had  - 
never  returned  ;  but  he  went  as  he  was.     So,  in  conver- 
sion, the  sinner  gives  himself  back  to  God  just  as  lie  is. 
He  does  not  seek  to  make  himself  better.     He  does  not 
delay  to  work  out  for  himself  a  robe  of  righteousness.  /' 
He  does  not  wait  even  for  deeper  feelings  or  more  intense  ^ 
convictions.     He  puts  himself  at  once  into  God's  hands, 
sure  that,  for  C'hrist's  sake,  he  will  make  him  all  that 
he  should  be.     This  is  the  whole  matter,  —  this  onli/  ; 
but  all  this :  and,  if  there  be  one  hearing  me  to-night 
who  is  moved  by  the  presentation  of  these  truths  to  go 
back  to  his  Father,  let  me  beseech  him  to  go  back  at 
once,  and  to  give  himself  without  reservation  and  with- 
out delay  to  God  in  Christ. 

"Just  as  thou  art,  without  one  trace 
Of  love,  or  joy,  or  inward  grace, 
Or  meetuess  for  the  heavenly  place, 
O  guilty  sinner,  come  !  " 

IV.  But,  that  we  may  give  completeness  to  our  treat-  ^ 
ment  of  this  part  of  the  parable,  let  us  look,  lastl}^  at  the 
prodigal's  reception  by  his  father.  "  And  when  he  was 
yet  a  great  way  off,  his  father  saw  him,  and  ran,  and  fell 
on  his  neck,  and  kissed  him.  And  the  son  said  unto  him, 
Father,  I  have  sinned  against  heaven,  and  in  thy  sight, 
and  am  no  more  worthy  to  be  called  thy  son.  But  the 
father  said  to  his  servants,  Bring  forth  the  best  robe, 
and  put  it  on  him ;  and  put  a  ring  on  his  hand,  and 
shoes  on  his  feet ;  and  bring  hither  the  fatted  calf,  and 
kill  it ;  and  let  us  cat,  "and  be  merry.  For  tliis  m}'  son 
was  dead,  and  is  alive  again  ;  he  was  lost,  and  is  found. 
And  they  began  to  l)e  merry."  As  he  draws  near  to 
the  old  home,  we  can  imagine  better  than  describe  his 
feelings.     Every  thing  looks  just  as  it  did  when  he  left. 


352  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR    SAVIOUR. 

But,  oh!  the  difference  in  himself!  And  the  remem- 
brance of  the  life  he  had  been  living  might  for  a 
moment  fill  his  heart  with  misgiving  and  make  him 
slacken  his  pace  a  little,  as  he  asked  himself  how  he 
would  be  received.  But  before  he  has  had  time  to 
answer  his  inner  questionings,  he  sees  a  familiar  form 
hastening  down  the  hill  to  meet  him ;  and  before  he 
knows,  he  feels  himself  infolded  in  his  father's  arms. 
What  a  meeting  it  was  !  There  are  no  words  of  upbraid- 
ing from  the  venerable  man.  He  can  do  nothing  but 
weep  out  his  joy  on  the  neck  of  his  son ;  and  the  son 
can  only  sob  his  words  of  penitence,  "  I  have  sinned 
against  heaven,  and  before  thee,  and  am  no  more  worthy 
to  be  called  thy  son."  But  he  does  not  ask  now  to  be 
made  as  "one  of  the  hired  servants ;"  for  already,  in  that 
warm  embrace,  he  feels  himself  re-instated  as  a  son,  and 
the  leaving-out  of  these  words  by  him  is  the  first  filial 
mark  we  see  about  himself.  Not  seldom  has  this  descrip- 
tion been  literally  verified  in  the  home  of  a  returned  and 
penitent  runaway.  But  here  it  is  employed  mainly  to 
illustrate  the  welcome  which  God  gives  to  the  penitent. 
What  a  long  way  he  comes  to  meet  the  sinner !  even  all 
the  way  to  the  cross  of  Calvary,  for  that  is  the  place 
where  every  penitent  finds  himself  infolded  in  God's 
fatherly  arms.  And  there  is  no  casting-up  to  him  there 
of  his  evil  courses ;  for  Jehovah  says,  "  I  am  he  that  will 
not  remember  thy  sins."  "  He  kisses  the  past  into  for- 
getfulness."  Bygones  are  bygones  forevermore  between 
them  ;  and  the  sinner  is  received  as  gladly  as  if  he  were 
an  angel  returning  from  the  doing  of  some  high  behest, 
—  nay,  with  a  deeper  and  diviner  joy  even  than  that. 

But  let  us  go  on ;  for  there  is  a  feast  behind,  and  a 
whole  heap  of  blessings  more.  The  fairest  robe  is  put 
upon  the  recovered  son  ;  a  ring  is  placed  on  his  hand, 


THE   PRODIGAL   SON.  353 

and  shoes  on  his  feet ;  a  joyful  festival  is  hehl ;  mirth 
and  song  resound  through  the  happy  dwelling ;  and,  at 
every  pause  in  the  music,  tlie  old  man's  voice  is  heard 
repeating  the  glad  refrain,  "  This  my  son  was  dead,  and 
is  alive  again  ;  he  was  lost,  and  is  found." 

Many  commentators  find  a  spiritual  meaning  in  each 
of  the  details  which  are  here  mentioned.  The  robe, 
they  tell  us,  is  the  righteousness  of  Christ ;  the  ring, 
the  token  of  assurance  ;  the  shoes,  the  badge  of  sonship, 
since  no  slave  was  permitted  to  have  sandalled  feet ; 
the  feast,  the  Lord's  Supper.  But  all  these  seem  now 
to  me  to  be  over-refinements.  The  whole  description, 
true  as  it  is,  even  in  its  minutest  features,  to  P^astern 
life,  is  designed  to  set  before  us  the  joy  with  which  God 
in  Christ  receives  returning  sinners ;  and  it  only  weak- 
ens our  impression  of  that,  to  dwell  thus  on  the  acces- 
sories of  tlie  story  as  if  they  had  particular  spiritual 
significance.  The  meaning  of  this  part  of  the  parable 
simply  is,  tliat  God  will  receive  the  penitent  with  glad- 
ness, and,  so  far  from  taunting  him  with  his  guilt,  will 
honor  him  by  giving  him  the  richest  blessings  which 
he  has  to  bestow.  He  will  re-instate  him  into  the  posi- 
tion whicli  he  had  forfeited  l)y  his  shi ;  he  Avill  give  him 
righteousness  without  and  within,  peace  of  conscience, 
joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  happy  fellowship  with  Him- 
self ;  and  over  his  return  there  shall  be  joy  in  heaven 
among  the  angels  that  surround  the  throne.  As  Trench 
has  said,  the  banquet  symbolizes  "the  festal  joy  and  re- 
joicing which  is  in  heaven  at  the  sinner's  return,  and 
no  less  in  the  church  on  earth  and  in  his  own  heart 
also ; "  ^  while  Arnot  puts  it  more  simply  tluis,  "  The 
feast  indicates  the  joy  of  a  forgiving  God  over  a  for- 
given man.  and  the  joy  of  a  forgiven  man  in  a  forgiving 

I  Notes  on  flio  Piiiablcs,  pp.  412,  413. 


354  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUll   SAVIOUR. 

God."  1  Thus  we  have  here  agam  a  point  of  contact 
between  this  parable  and  the  two  that  go  before  it. 
The  great  purpose  of  thera  all  is  to  illustrate  the 
fact  that  there  is  joy  in  heaven  over  one  sinner  that 
repenteth.  But  the  peculiarity  here  is,  that  the  delight 
is  shared  by  the  recovered  one  himself ;  and  as  we  have 
already  considered  the  gladness  in  heaven  over  a  sin- 
y  ner's  repentance,  we  may  conclude  our  discourse  now 
by  referring  briefly  to  the  joy  of  the  penitent  himself. 

The  new  life  begins  in  feast.  The  convert  has  "joy  " 
as  well  as  "peace  in  believing."  While  God  rejoices 
over  him,  he  rejoices  in  God ;  and  in  the  first  experience 
of  his  reception  by  God  this  gladness  is  peculiarly  in- 
tense. When  Philip  preached  in  Samaria,  and  multi- 
tudes were  turned  unto  the  Lord,  we  read  that  "  there 
was  great  joy  in  that  city  ; "  ^  and  when  the  Ethiopian 
treasurer  had  found  the  salvation  that  is  in  Christ 
Jesus  we  are  told  "  that  he  went  on  his  way  rejoicing."  ^ 
So  it  always  is.  Many  illustrative  cases  might  be 
gleaned  from  Christian  biography  in  proof  of  this  ass'er- 
tion,  but  we  cannot  enter  now  upon  so  wide  a  field. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  the  holiest,  most  elevating,  and 
most  lasting  gladness  which  the  soul  can  know  is  that 
which  springs  from  the  contemplation  of  God's  mercy, 
revealed  to  it  and  received  by  it  through  faith  in  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Peter  used  not  the  words  of  wild 
fanaticism,  but  the  language  of  sober  truth,  when  he 
said,  "  In  whom,  though  now  we  see  him  not,  yet  be- 
lieving we  rejoice  with  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of 
glory  ;  "  *  and  some  among  us  can  indorse  the  words  of 
Mrs.  Isabella  Graham  when,  referring  to  her  conver- 
sion, she  says,    "My  views  then  were    dark  compared 

1  Arnot  on  the  Parables,  p.  440. 

2  Acts  viii.  8.  3  ibid.  viii.  39.  4  i  pet.  i.  8. 


THE  PRODIGAL   SON.  355 

with  wliat  they  are  now ;  but  this  I  remember,  that,  at 
the  time,  1  felt  a  heart-satisfying  trust  in  the  mercy  of 
God  through  Christ,  and  for  a  time  rejoiced  with  joy 
scarcely  supportable,  singing  almost  continually  the 
hundred  and  third  Psalm."  ^ 

Such,  my  friends,  is  the  banquet  which  God  spreads 
for  the  returning  sinner ;  but  we  may  not  forget  that 
he  makes  both  the  church  on  earth  and  the  church  in 
heaven  sharers  with  him  in  his  joy.  For  when  the 
penitent  breaks  his  alabaster  box  over  the  feet  of  Jesus, 
the  whole  house  of  God  is  filled  and  fragrant  with  the 
odor  of  the  ointment.  All  in  it  make  merry  (I  like  the 
homely  word)  over  a  sinner's  conversion ;  and  though, 
on  the  princii)le  that  it  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to 
receive,  the  highest  deliglit  is  that  of  God,  yet  we  must 
not  forget  the  gladness  of  the  penitent  himself.  Sin- 
ner, do  you  want  to  be  happy  ?  Then  return  to  God. 
Away  from  him  you  must  still  be  in  want,  hungering 
after  the  world's  husks,  which  cannot  always  be  ob- 
tained, and  which,  when  obtained,  give  neither  sus- 
tenance nor  satisfaction ;  but  from  him  you  will  receive 
abiding  felicity,  the  joy  of  forgiveness,  of  acceptance,  of 
assurance,  of  holiness,  and  finally,  as  the  climax  and 
consummation  of  them  all,  the  joy  of  heaven.  This  is 
put  in  your  offer  now,  and  the  only  condition  annexed 
to  your  reception  of  it  is  that  you  will  "  arise,  and  go  to 
your  Father." 

1  Life  of  Mrs.  Isabella  Graham,  p.  150. 


356     .  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 


XXIII. 

THE  ELDER   BROTHER. 

(Luke  XV.  25-32.) 

In  the  general  liouseholcl  joy  over  the  prodigal's  re- 
turn, there  was  one  who  refused  to  share.  The  elder 
son,  who  now,  for  the  first  time,  comes  into  prominence, 
was  absent  in  the  field  at  the  moment  of  his  brother's 
re-appearance,  and  became  aware  that  something  unusual 
had  occurred  only  when,  as  he  drew  near,  he  heard  the 
sound  of  music  and  dancing.  Instead,  however,  of  go- 
n/  ing  trustfully  forward  into  the  house,  in  perfect  assur- 
ance that  every  thing  over  which  his  father  presided 
must  be  right,  he  showed  a  mo;^  nnfilial  disposition  by 
calling  one  of  the  servants,  and  asking  him  what  "  these 
things  meant."  Promptly  and  plainly,  without  any 
desire,  as  some  allege,  to  sneer  at  the  whole  proceed- 
ing, and  wishing  simply  to  state  the  facts  as  they  were, 
the  domestic  made*  reply :  "  Thy  brother  is  come  ;  and 
thy  father  hath  killed  for  him  the  fatted  calf,  because 
he  hath  received  him  safe  and  sound."  But  the  infor- 
mation thus  given  was  exceedingly  distasteful  to  the 
elder  brother ;  and  he  was  irritated  and  annoyed  be- 
cause, while  so  much  had  been  done  to  celebrate  his 
brother's  return,  nothing  had  ever  been  received  by 
himself  as  a  token  of  appreciation  of  his  services.     The 

Isonship  thus  had  degenerated  in  his  heart,  even  while 
he  was  living  at  home,  into  the  spirit  of  the  hireling. 


THE  ELDER   BROTHER.  357 

He  had,  indeed,  never  done  any  positive  wrong.  He  '^ 
had  been  thoroughly  moral,  perfectly  respectable,  and 
exceedingly  industrious  ;  but  he  had  been  all  these, 
not  from  the  loving  impulse  of  a  son,  but,  as  it  now 
appears,  from  the  desii'e  of  reward;  and  because,  treat- 
ing him  as  a  son,  his  father  had  never  thought  of  giving 
him  any  thing  in  the  shape  of  that,  he  was  exceedingly 
displeased.  Having  had  within  him  all  the  while  the 
disposition  of  a  hireling,  he  could  neither  imderstand 
nor  appreciate  the  parental  joy  over  the  recovery  of  a 
son  ;  and,  like  a  hireling,  he  complained  at  not  having 
received  a  hireling's  pay,  while  so  much  was  given  to  an 
erring  but  now  penitent  son.  So  "  he  was  angry,  and 
would  not  go  in." 

Tlius  he  remained  outside  of  the  father's  house,  and 
was  in  a  state  of  most  unfilial  alienation  from  his  par- 
ent. But  when  his  father  learned  of  his  determination, 
he  showed  to  him  precisely  the  same  affection  which  he 
had  manifested  to  his  brother,  only  in  another  fashion. 
He  welcomed  back  the  wanderer;  but  now  he  went  out 
after  the  departing  one,  and  entreated  him  "to  come 
in."  But  he  was  met  in  a  very  haughty  and  self-suffi- 
cient spirit ;  for  the  angry  son  replied,  "  Lo,  these 
many  years  do  I  serve  thee,  neither  transgressed  I  at 
any  time  thy  commandment ;  and  yet  thou  never  gavest 
me  a  kid,  that  J  might  make  merry  with  my  friends; 
but  as  soon  as  this  thy  son  was  come,  wlio  hath  devoured 
ihy  living  with  harlots,  thou  hast  killed  for  him  the 
fatted  calf." 

Now,  in  all  this  we  cannot  fail  to  observe  how  the 
heart  of  the  son  has  degenerated  into  that  of  the  ser- 
vant.    He  dwells  on  the  value  of  the  work  which  he 
had   performed,  and    complains   that  he   has   received    "^ 
nothing  for  it;  but  a  leal-spirited  sou  never  can  do  too 


358  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

much  for  his  father,  and  works  "  all  for  love  and  nothing 
for  reward."     There  was  here,  therefore,  much  of  the 

\/  disposition  that  animated  Peter  when  he  said  to  his 
Lord,  "  Lo,  we  have  left  all,  and  followed  thee :  what 
shall  we  have  therefore  ?  "  and  which  was  exposed  and 
rebuked,  as  we  saw,  in  the  parable  of  the  vineyard  labor- 
ers.    And  closely  allied  with  that,  there  was  an  amount 

V  of  self-complacency  which  makes  this  man  exceedingly 
unlovely.  He  had  an  overweening  estimate  of  his  own 
importance.  He  dwelt  upon  his  model  behavior  Q'  nei- 
ther transgressed  I  at  any  time  thy  commandment ") 
to  such  a  degree  that  any  attention  shown  to  another 
was  interpreted  by  him  as  a  slight  upon  himself;  while 
he  who  received  such  attentions  was  despised  as  alto- 
gether unworthy  of  consideration. 

■"^'  But  these  two  qualities  are  always  attendant  upon 
self-conceit.  The  Pharisees  "  trusted  in  themselves, 
that  they  were  righteous,  and  despised  others ; "  and 
when  the  Lord  showed  favor  to  the  publicans  and  sin- 
ners, they  felt  as  if  he  had  insulted  themselves.  He 
who  is  always  thinking  of  his  own  excellences  takes 
offence  where  none  is  meant.  One's  appreciation  of 
another  is  by  him  interpreted  as  a  depreciation  of  him- 
self; and  to  make  much  of  any  one  in  his  hearing,  is 
enough  to  provoke  him  to  speak  of  that  other  in  terms 
of  cutting  and  sarcastic  scorn.  Hence,  here,  the  mak- 
ing of  a  festival  over  the  prodigal's  return  draws  forth 
from  the  elder  brother  a  complaint  that  he  had  been 
neglected,  and  a  contemptuous  allusion  to  the  prodi- 
gal's course,  which  altogether  ignores  the  penitence 
that  prompted  his  return  ;  while,  at  the  same  time,  there 
is  a  repudiation  on  his  part  of  all  relationship  to  such  a 
worthless  fellow.  His  father  might  do  as  he  pleased, 
of  course,  but   though   he  received  the  prodigal  as  a 


THE  ELDER  BUOTHEIi.  359 

son,  that  would  not  make  him  acknowledge  hun  as  a 
brother ;  and  so  he  is  careful  to  say,  "  as  soon  as  this 
till/  son  was  come."  How  little  sympathy  there  is  thus  / 
between  the  elder  son  and  his  father !  In  the  house- 
hold all  those  years,  he  had  not  been  of  it ;  and,  for  all 
his  industry  and  respectability,  he  had  no  true  sonshi]? 
in  his  soul.  Nay,  if  I  rightly  interpret  the  answer  of 
the  servant  to  him  when  he  asked  what  the  music  and 
the  dancing  meant,  there  was  more  of  sonship  in  the 
servant's  heart  than  there  was  even  in  the  son's. 

But  see  how  tenderly  his  father  treats  him.  He  takes  \/ 
no  notice  of  the  sneering  innuendoes  which  were  meant 
to  be  so  reproachful,  but  calmly  replies,  "  Son,  thou  art 
ever  with  me,  and  all  that  I  have  is  thine."  As  if  he 
had  said,  "Why  speak  of  making  merry  with  thy  friends, 
when  thou  hast  always  had  a  feast  in  me ;  and  as  for 
thy  brother's  waste,  say  no  more  of  that ;  for  thou  art 
none  the  poorer  for  his  prodigality',  since  all  that  I  have 
is  thine."  But  he  will  go  no  farther  in  the  way  of  en- 
treaty than  that.  He  will  not  acknowledge  that  he  has 
in  any  degree  overlooked  the  one  son,  in  his  joy  over 
the  return  of  the  other,  nor  will  he  admit  that  he  has 
done  any  thing  improper  in  holding  such  a  festival  on 
such  an  occasion.  On  the  contrary,  he  defends  his  pro- 
cedure, and  repeats  his  gladness,  at  one  and  the  same 
time,  saying,  "It  was  meet"  —  that  is",  "it  was  fitting, 
it  was  in  every  respect  in  harmony  with  the  dictates 
of  nature  and  religion ;  "  or,  perhaps,  more  literally,^ 
"it  was  necessary,  I  could  not  but,  I  could  not  keep 
myself  from  yielding  to  the  impulse  "  —  "  to  make 
merry,  and  be  glad:  fortius  thy  brother" — mark  the 
gentle  reproof  in  the  words  —  "was  dead,  and  is  alive 
again  ;  he  was  lost,  and  is  found." 

1  The  (;n5fk  is  .5.4. 


360  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

But,  passing  now  to  the  interpretation  of  the  parable, 
the  question  arises,  whom  this  elder  brother  is  intended 
to  represent.  Different  answers  have  been  given  by 
different  expositors.  Some  have  said  that  he  symbolizes 
the  angels  in  their  relation  to  the  human  race ;  but  that 
cannot  be  entertained  by  us  for  a  moment ;  for,  as  the 
other  parables  in  this  chapter  make  very  apparent,  the 
angels,  so  far  from  being  envious  and  dissatisfied  at 
God's  reception  of  returning  sinners  of  mankind,  sin- 
cerely rejoice  with  him  over  the  recovery  of  those  whom 
he  had  lost.  Others  have  alleged  that  the  elder  brother 
stands  for  the  Jews,  while  the  younger  is  the  represent- 
ative of  the  Gentiles ;  and  it  must  be  confessed  that 
something  may  be  said  for  that  interpretation.  For,  as 
a  nation,  the  Jews  were  most  exclusive,  and  regarded 
with  repugnance  the  very  idea  of  the  Gentiles  being 
made  partakers  with  them  of  the  blessings  of  the  cove- 
nant. Thus  when  our  Lord,  in  the  synagogue  of  Naza- 
reth, referred  to  Elijah's  mission  to  the  woman  of 
Zarephath,  and  Elisha's  cure  of  Naaman  the  Syrian, 
thereby  suggesting  that  the  Gentiles  were  to  be  the 
heirs  of  the  blessings  which  the  Jews  refused  to  accept, 
his  hearers  were  so  enraged,  that  they  took  him  to  the 
brow  of  the  hill  on  Avhich  their  city  was  built,  and 
would  have  cast  him  over  if  he  had  not  escaped  out 
of  their  hands.^  So,  again,  when  Paul  addressed  the 
crowd  from  the  castle-stairs  at  Jerusalem,  they  gave 
him  patient  audience  until  he  spoke  of  his  having  been 
sent  to  the  Gentiles,  when  they  immediately  cried  out, 
"  Away  with  such  a  fellow  from  the  earth !  it  is  not  fit 
that  he  should  live."^  Nay,  so  strong  was  this  feeling, 
even  in  the  breast  of  Peter  the  Apostle,  that  he  had  to 
be  prepared  by  a  special  vision  from  heaven  for  preach- 

1  Luke  iv.  2i-29.  2  Acts  xxii.  22. 


THE  ELDER  BROTHER.  361 

ing  the  gospel  to  the  household  of  Cornelius.^  There 
is  no  doubt,  therefore,  that  the  disposition  of  the  elder 
brother,  as  here  portrayed,  was  manifested  by  the  Jews 
in  their  treatment  of  the  Gentiles.  But  whether  that 
was  the  primary  reference  of  this  part  of  the  parable, 
is  another  question.  There  is  nothing  in  the  circum- 
stances in  which  it  was  first  spoken  to  make  that  in  the 
least  degree  probable.  The  Lord  had  not  been  alluding 
in  any  way  whatever  to  the  call  of  the  Gentiles ;  and 
it  would  be  most  unnatural,  and  indeed  unwarrantable, 
to  put  such  a  restriction  upon  his  words. 

Others,  therefore,  understand  that  the  purpose  of  our 
Lord  in  adding  this  episode  of  the  elder  brother  was  to 
introduce  him  as  the  representative  of  the  scribes  and 
Pharisees,  by  whose  taunt,  "  This  man  receiveth  sinners, 
and  eateth  with  them,"  these  three  parables  were  called 
forth.  But  even  that  interpretation  is  beset  with  diffi- 
culties. For  how  could  it  be  said,  with  truth,  that  God 
was  "  ever  with  "  the  scribes  and  Pharisees,  and  that  all 
that  he  had  was  theirs '?  We  can  understand,  indeed, 
how  they  should  say  that  they  had  faithfully  served 
God,  and  had  never  at  any  time  transgressed  his  com- 
mandment ;  for  that  is  only  in  keeping  with  their  well- 
known  self-complacency :  but  that  such  a  claim  should 
be  admitted,  and  that  they  sliould  be  represented  as 
having  God  ever  with  them,  is  certainly  somewhat  ; 
vStaggering.  Calvin  meets  that  difficulty  thus;  and  I  ^ 
quote  his  words  because  they  fairly  express  the  view  of 
all  those  who  have  adopted  this  interpretation :  "  He 
compares  the  scribes,  who  were  swelled  with  presump- 
tion, to  good  and  modest  men,  who  had  always  lived 
with  decency  and  sobriety,  and  had  honorably  supported 
their  families,  —  nay,  even  to  obedient  children,  who, 

1  Acts  X. 


362  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

throughout  their  whole  lives,  had  patiently  submitted 
to  their  father's  control.  And,  though  they  were  utterly 
unworthy  of  this  connnendation,  yet  Christ,  speaking 
according  to  their  belief,  attributes  to  them,  by  way  of 
concession,  their  pretended  holiness,  as  if  it  had  been 
virtue ;  as  if  he  had  said,  '  Though  I  were  to  grant  to 
you  what  you  falsely  boast  of,  that  you  have  always 
been  obedient  children  to  God,  still  you  ought  not  so 
haughtily  and  cruelly  to  reject  your  brethren  when  they 
repent  of  their  wicked  life.' "  ^  To  those  who  accept 
this  explanation  as  satisfactory,  the  elder  brother  has  a 
primary,  precise,  and  distinct  reference  to  the  scribes 
and  Pharisees  ;  and  in  this  view,  the  uncertainty  in 
which  the  parable  leaves  us  as  to  whether  or  not  he 
actually  went  into  the  house  to  participate  in  the  feast 
becomes  very  suggestive,  as  being  in  itself  an  appeal  to 
those  self-righteous  persons  to  whom  it  was  addressed, 
to  reconsider  their  position,  if  peradventure  they  might 
—  as,  indeed,  we  know  some  of  them  afterwards  did  — 
go  in,  and  hold  high  festival  with  those  whom  Christ 
had  lifted  out  of  the  grossest  degradation. 

But  still  the  difficulty  presses.  The  elder  brother  is 
regarded  as  a  true,  though  temporarily  erring,  son ;  and 
therefore  others,  of  whom  Matthew  Henry  may  be  re- 
garded as  the  exponent,  take  him  as  the  embodiment 
of  such  as  "  are  really  good,  and  have  been  so  from 
their  youth  up,  and  never  went  astray  into  any  vicious 
course  of  living ;  to  whom,  therefore,  the  words,  '  Son, 
thou  art  ever  with  me,  and  all  that  I  have  is  thine,' 
are  applicable  without  any  difficulty,  though  they  are 
not  so  to  the  scribes  and  Pharisees."^ 

Now,  if  I  were  shut  up  to  the  adoption  of  any  one 
of  these  explanations  to  the  exclusion  of  all  the  rest,  I 

'  Calvin's  Commentary,  in  loco.  2  Commentary,  in  loco. 


TUE  ELDER    lUiOTlIEli.  363 

should  without  any  hesitation,  and  in  spite  of  its  diffi- 
culties, accept  that  which  regards  the  elder  brother  as 
representing   the   scribes   and  Pharisees,  because  it  is 
most  in  harmony  with  the  original  purpose  of  the  para- 
ble.    Still  I  do  not  see  that  we  are  required  to  identify 
him  with  any  particular  individual  or  any  special  class. 
He  is,  in  my  view,  to  be  regarded  as  the  idealized  in-  V 
carnation  of  an  evil  disposition.     He  is  the  impersona- 
tion  and  embodiment   of  envy  ;  and  wherever,  or   in 
whomsoever,  at  any  time,  or  in  any  degree,  that  quality     ) 
manifests  itself,  there  you  have,  for  the  time  being,  the   / 
elder  brother. 

In  speaking  of  the  younger  son,  Mr.  Arnot  very  justly 
says,  "  In  representing  the  human  figure,  an  artist  may 
proceed  upon  either  of  two  distinct  principles,  according 
to  the  object  which,  for  the  time,  he  may  have  in  view. 
He  may,  on  the  one  hand,  delineate  the  likeness  of  an 
individual,  producing  a  copy  of  his  particular  features, 
with  all  their  beauties  and  all  their  blemishes  alike  ;  or 
he  may,  on  the  other  hand,  conceive  and  execute  an 
ideal  picture  of  a  man,  the  ]_)ortrait  of  no  j)erson  in  par- 
ticular, with  features  selected  from  many  specimens  of 
the  race,  and  combined  in  one  complete  figure.  The 
parable  (figure?)  of  the  prodigal  is  a  picture  of  the 
latter  kind :  it  is  not  out  and  out  the  picture  of  any 
man,  but  it  is  to  a  certain  extent  the  picture  of  every 
man."  ^  Now,  in  like  manner,  the  elder  brother  also  is 
an  ideal  figure ;  not  agreeing  in  every  minute  particular 
\\ith  any  one  man,  or  any  one  class  of  men,  but  yet  so 
representing  the  Avorkings  of  envy,  that  the  envious  man 
anywhere  may  see  liimself  in  him,  whether  he  be  a  Phari- 
see or  a  scribe  standing  outside  of  the  spiritual  church 
of  Christ  altogether,  or  a  genuine  but  imperfect  disciple 

1  Arnot  on  tlic  I'arablL-s,  p.  4;U 


364  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

who  is  really  connected  with  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
The  advantage  of  this  interpretation  is,  that,  while  it 
gets  rid  of  the  difficulties  which  meet  every  one  who 
attempts  to  identify  the  elder  brother  absolutely  with 
any  individual  or  with  any  class,  it  so  widens  the  appli- 
cation of  this  episode  to  the  parable,  that  it  conveys  a 
lesson  to  every  sort  of  reader.  Take  the  elder  brother 
as  representing  the  Pharisee  simply  and  only,  and  very 
few  will  be  inclined  to  think  that  there  is  any  thing  of 
him  in  themselves.  Take  him,  on  the  other  hand,  as 
the  idealized  embodiment  of  the  spirit  of  envy,  and  each 
of  us  must  feel  that  there  is  a  great  deal  of  "elder- 
brotherliness  "  in  his  own  heart.  In  the  rigid  legalist, 
indeed,  there  is  nothing  but  this  spirit  of  envy ;  but 
there  is  more  or  less  of  it  even  in  the  true  follower  of 
Christ,  and  so  the  elder  brother  stands  out  here  as  a 
warning  to  us  all. 

"Who  is  this  elder  son?"  The  question  was  once 
asked  in  an  assembly  of  ministers  at  Elberfeldt,  and 
Daniel  Krummacher  made  answer,  "I  know  him  very 
well :  I  met  him  only  yesterday."  —  "  Who  is  he  ?  "  they 
asked  eagerly  ;  and  he  replied  solemnly,  "  Myself."  He 
then  explained  that  on  the  previous  day,  hearing  that 
a  very  gracious  visitation  of  God's  goodness  had  been  re- 
ceived by  a  very  ill-conditioned  man,  he  had  felt  not  a 
little  envy  and  irritation.^  That  was  the  true  reading  of 
the  story,  and  it  is  capable  of  manifold  application.  It 
fits  the  case  of  the  scribes  and  Pharisees,  to  whom  it 
was  first  addressed,  and  who  sneered  at  Christ  for  his 
reception  of  sinners.  It  fits  the  Jews  in  the  Saviour's 
day,  and  even  in  the  early  Church,  who  looked  askance 
at  the  Gentiles,  and  complained  because  unto  them  also 

1  Stier's  Words  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  vol.  iv.  p.  162;  quoted  by  Dr. 
James  Hamilton  iu  The  Pearl  of  Parables,  p.  164. 


THE  ELDER   BROTHER.  365 

the  gospel  luul  been  preached.  It  fits  the  disciples  at 
Jerusalem,  who,  immediately  after  Paul's  conversion, 
were  "afraid  of  him,  and  believed  not  that  he  was  a 
disciple."  ^ 

The  a])[)ropriateness  of  this  explanation  was  very  sin- 
guhnly  imprcsbed  on  my  own  mind,  in  a  manner  which  I 
can  never  forget.  Some  nineteen  years  ago  I  preached 
to  my  congregation  in  Liverpool,  one  Lord's  Day  morn- 
ing, from  this  episode  to  the  parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son, 
and  gave  the  same  interpretation  of  it  as  I  have  now 
presented  to  you.  As  T  was  leaving  the  church  for  my 
home,  I  was  requested  to  visit  a  dying  man  whom  I 
had  seen  frequently  before,  but  who  was  just  then, 
apparently,  about  to  pass  within  the  veil.  He  had 
been  for  many  years  a  careless  and  irreligious  man  ;  but 
as  I  spoke  with  him  from  time  to  time,  I  marked  that 
a  great  change  had  come  over  him.  I  had  conversed 
faithfully  and  earnestly  with  him,  of  Jesus  and  his  sal- 
vation ;  and  he  had  turned  in  sincere  penitence  to  his 
Father,  and  was,  as  I  sincerely  believe,  accepted  by 
him.  When  I  entered  his  room  that  morning,  I  found 
him  in  great  happiness,  rejoicing  in  the  near  prospect 
of  being  with  his  Lord,  and  apparently  perfectly  happy. 
I  talked  with  him  a  little  on  the  things  of  the  kingdom, 
and  after  prayer  I  took  my  leave.  His  brother-in-law 
followed  me  down-stairs,  and  said,  "  I  cannot  under- 
stand this  at  all.  Here  have  I  been  serving  Christ  for 
these  twenty  years,  and  I  have  never  experienced  such 
joy  as  he  expresses ;  and  yet  he  has  not  been  a  Chris- 
tian, if  he  be  really  one,  for  more  than  a  few  weeks." 
Immediately  I  recognized  the  elder  brother,  and  I  staid 
long  enough  to  sliow  him  just  how  he  looked  in  the 
light  (»f  this  parable.     I  told  him  that  I  had  been  preach- 

1  Acts  ix.  L'(;. 


366  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

ing  about  him  tliot  very  morning.  "About  wiel"'  he 
said.  "  Yes,  about  you ; "  and  I  then  went  on  to  ex- 
plain to  him  the  meaning  of  this  episode,  while  I  warned 
him  of  the  danger  of  being  angry,  and  refusing  to  go 
into  the  Father's  house  to  share  the  joy  over  the  return- 
ing prodigal.  The  result  was  that  he  saw  his  error,  and 
was  delivered  from  his  envy.  Now,  that  incident,  oc- 
curring just  at  that  precise  time,  has  given  a  new  point 
to  the  parable  in  my  view  ever  since,  and  makes  me 
far  more  anxious  to  get  the  elder-brotherliness  out  of 
my  own  heart  than  to  identify  the  elder  brother  with 
any  particular  class. 

The  pastor  of  age  and  excellence,  who  is  mourning 
over  the  apparent  fruitlessness  of  his  labors,  and  is 
tempted  to  ask  why  God  makes  a  young  brother  in  the 
neighborhood,  of  little  experience  and  less  eminence, 
instrumental  in  bringing  multitudes  to  Christ,  while  he 
has  no  such  results  from  his  ministrations ;  the  sabbath- 
school  teacher  who  throws  up  his  work  in  wounded 
self-love,  because  another,  who  has  no  such  qualifica- 
tions as  he  possesses,  seems  to  be  so  much  more  suc- 
cessful than  he ;  the  laborer  in  any  department  of 
beneficence,  who,  because  he  thinks  that  more  is  made 
of  some  one  else  than  of  himself,  gives  way  to  personal 
pique,  and  withdraws  altogether  from  the  enterprise ; 
the  over-sensitive,  conceited  man,  who  is  always  taking 
offence  where  none  is  meant,  and  is  so  continually 
anxious  for  the  due  recognition  of  his  dignity,  that  he 
manages  to  exclude  himself  from  every  society  with 
which  he  is  connected,  —  may  all  look  here,  and  in  the 
elder  brother  each  will  see  himself. 

But  let  not  even  these  imagine  that  they  are  beyond 
God's  acceptance.  The  father  came  out,  and  entreated 
the  elder  brother  to  go  into  the  feast,  and  so  God  is  still 


THE  ELDER    BROTHER.  367 

appealing  to  the  envious.  The  door  is  open  to  them, 
if  tney  will  but  enter ;  and  when  they  consent  to  do 
so  in  the  spirit  of  sons  and  not  of  servants,  in  humility 
and  not  in  self-conceit,  in  love  and  not  as  hirelings, 
then  they  too  \\\\\  rejoice,  and  the  festival,  instead  of 
aggravating  them  into  misery,  will  be  felt  by  them  to 
be  an  appropriate  expression  of  their  gladness. 

I  conclude  with  three  practical  lessons  from  the  whole 
subject. 

In  the  first  place,  let  Christians  endeavor  to  show  to 
sinners  the  same  spirit  which  God  has  shown  to  them- 
selves. The  gentleness  of  God  to  us  should  be  repeated 
by  us  in  our  intercourse  with  others,  and  Ave  should 
deal  with  those  who  are  going  in  penitence  to  Chi-ist 
with  the  same  tenderness  as  he  himself  will  manifest  to 
them.  Parents,  this  parable  speaks  to  you  about  the 
training  of  your  children,  and  bids  you  seek  their  godly 
upbringing,  not  in  rigorous  and  unbending  sternness, 
but  in  tender  love.  Sabbath-school  teachers,  tliis  par- 
able bids  you,  in  your  earnest  efforts  after  the  welfare 
of  your  scholars,  show  to  them  the  same  gentleness  that 
the  father  showed  his  son  when  he  fell  upon  his  neck, 
and  kissed  him  ;  and  it  warns  you  against  indulging  in 
vituperation  and  reproach.  Had  the  prodigal  met  the 
elder  brother  first,  he  might  have  gone  away  back  to  his 
iniquity,  ay,  even  from  the  very  gate  into  his  fathers 
house.  So  a  cruel,  unfeeling,  taunting  word  may  be 
the  means  of  turning  away  from  his  penitent  resolution 
one  who  might  else  have  gone  to  Christ  in  genuine  con- 
version. Pastor,  there  is  a  message  here  for  thee  also ; 
and  thou  art  commanded  to  be,  in  the  midst  of  thy  flock, 
loving  as  this  father  was  to  his  home-coming  son,  and 
to  beware  lest  by  unfeeling  or  mistaken  sternness  thou 
shouldst  drive  away  those  who  are  seeking  to  enter  into 


368  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

the  fold.  Oh  for  more  of  this  divine  tenderness  among 
us  all!  Let  us  remember  that  the  reputation  of  the 
gospel,  and  in  some  sort  also  the  character  of  God  him- 
self, are  at  stake  in  our  conduct ;  and  let  us  tremble 
with  a  holy  fear  lest  we  should  give  occasion  to  his  ene- 
mies to  blaspheme  his  name,  or  lest  we  should,  by  our 
repulsiveness,  scare  away  some  poor  sinner  from  the 
loving  Father  who  is  so  willing  to  receive  him.  Men 
judge  of  God  through  us.  Let  us  see  to  it,  therefore, 
that  they  have  from  our  deportment  toward  them  a 
right  idea  of  his  willinghood  to  welcome  them. 

Li  the  second  place,  let  anxious  sinners  beware  of 
judging  of  God's  attitude  toward  them  from  that  which 
is  assumed  by  some  who  call  themselves  his  children. 
They  may  be  Pharisees,  and  not  true  sons.  Or  they 
may  be  real  children ;  yet  at  the  moment,  by  reason  of 
the  imperfection  still  adhering  to  them,  they  may  be 
acting  an  unfilial  part.  In  any  case,  we  must  not  allow 
the  character  and  conduct  of  any  man,  be  he  official  in 
the  church,  or  whatever  else,  to  prejudice  us  against 
God.  Men  may  repel  us,  and  refuse  to  have  any  thing 
whatever  to  do  with  us ;  but  God  will  receive  us  gra- 
ciously, and  love  us  freely.  The  respectable  church- 
members  in  this  respectability-worshipping  age  may 
stand  aloof  from  us,  and  may  make  us  feel  that  they 
would  count  themselves  degraded  by  holding  any  fel- 
lowship with  us ;  but  He  who  talked  with  the  woman  of 
Samaria  at  the  well  of  Sychar,  and  allowed  the  woman 
who  had  been  a  sinner  to  wash  his  feet  with  her  tears, 
and  wipe  them  with  the  hairs  of  her  head,  will  in  no 
wise  cast  us  out.  The  minister  of  the  gospel,  even, 
may  so  far  forget  himself  as  to  speak  to  us  with  hard 
and  cold  severity ;  yea,  he  may  treat  us  with  rudeness 
or  injustice  :  but  he  is  only  a  man,  — perhaps  a  very  im- 


THE  ELDER   BROTHER.  369 

perfect  man,  —  lie  is  not  God.  And  let  us  be  thankful 
that  God  is  not  like  him.  There  is  a  magnanimous 
mercy  and  an  exalted  generosity  in  God  which  we  look 
for  in  vain,  in  the  same  degree  at  least,  in  any  man. 

"  For  the  love  of  God  is  broader 

Than  the  measure  of  man's  mind ; 
And  the  heart  of  the  Eternal 
Is  most  wonderfully  kind."  ^ 

And,  whatever  may  be  the  nature  of  the  actions  of  our 
fellow-men  to  us,  we  must  not  allow  them  to  set  us 
against  Jehovah.  He  is  always  on  the  outlook  lor 
returning  sinners;  and  before  they  havt;  time  to  con- 
clude their  confession,  he  has  already  folded  them  to 
his  heart.  Do  not  misinterpret  him,  therefore,  by  sup- 
posing that  tlie  cold-hearted  exclusiveness,  which  is  too 
manifest  in  many  who  profess  to  be  his  children,  is  in 
any  respect  characteristic  of  him.  Regard  him  as  he 
presents  himself  to  you  in  his  Word.  Read  him  as 
he  has  written  himself  in  the  mission  and  sacrifice  of 
his  Son ;  and,  whatever  else  may  be  suggested  to  you 
by  the  disposition  of  his  professed  people,  rest  you  sure 
of  this,  that  his  true  character  is  portrayed  in  this  par- 
able, and  that  Isaiah  has  not  misinter[)rcted  him  wlien 
he  says,  "Let  the  wicked  forsake  his  way,  and  the  un- 
righteous man  his  thoughts;  and  let  him  return  unto  the 
Lord,  for  he  will  have  mercy  upon  him;  and  unto  our 
God,  for  he  will  abundantly  pardon."  ^ 

Finally,  let  us  learn  from  this  whole  chapter,  that  God 
has  a  sincere,  earnest,  personal  interest  in  the  salvation 
of  men.  There  are  no  obstacles  now  to  the  salvation  of 
a  sinner,  on  God's  side.  If  any  remain,  they  lie  entirely 
with  the  sinner  liimself.     With  all  the  solemnity  of  an 

1  Faber.  -  Isa.  Iv.  7. 


y 


370  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

oath,  Jeliovah  has  said,  "  As  I  live,  1  have  no  pleasure 
in  the  death  of  the  wicked,  but  that  the  wicked  turn 
from  his  way,  and  live  ;  "  ^  and  even  more  forcibly  than 
by  that  striking  asseveration,  Jesus  Christ  has  set  the 
same  truth  before  us  in  this  incomparable  chapter  of 
Luke's  Gospel.  I  answer,  therefore,  all  difficulties  which 
inquirers  may  feel  about  such  topics  as  election,  the 
special  agency  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  sovereignty  of 
God,  and  the  like,  by  bidding  them  go  and  read  these 
parables.  They  show  that  God  is  in  earnest  in  seeking 
to  save  lost  souls.  They  prove  that  every  thing  about 
him,  and  done  by  him,  is  in  the  interest  of  the  sinner's 
return.  His  electing  love,  his  Spirit's  work,  his  sove- 
reignty, are  all  to  be  interpreted  in  the  light  of  this 
chapter,  and  are  all  to  be  understood  as  designed  to 
help  and  not  to  hinder  the  sinner's  restoration.  They 
are  not  stumbling-blocks  placed  in  the  waj^  of  the  peni- 
tent, but  they  are  agencies  at  work  in  removing  obsta- 
cles from  his  path.  See  to  it,  therefore,  that  you  do 
not  misunderstand  God.  Meet  every  speculative  diffi- 
culty arising  from  the  doctrines  to  which  I  have  referred, 
with  this  chapter,  which  has  always  been  regarded  as 
one  of  the  "  crown  jewels "  of  the  Christian  Church. 
Silence  every  foreboding  about  the  reception  which 
God  may  give  you,  with  these,  "  the  first  three  "  of  the 
Redeemer's  parables.  Arise,  and  go  in  fullest  confi- 
dence to  your  Father.  He  will  not  reject  you,  but  will 
infold  you  in  his  forgiving  embrace,  and  say  over  you, 
in  infinite  tenderness,  and  with  Divine  delight,  "  This 
my  son  was  dead.,  and  is  alive  again  ;  he  ivas  lost,  and  is 
founds 

1  Ezek.  xxxiii.  11. 


THE  PRUDENT  STEWARD.  371 


XXIV. 

THE  PRUDENT  STEIVARD. 

(Luke  xvi.  1-12.) 

The  interpretation  of  this  parable  has  occasioned 
more  perplexity  to  the  commentators  than  any  other  in 
the  Gospels,  with  perhaps  the  single  exception  of  that 
of  "the  laborers  in  the  vineyard."  But  the  difficulty, 
at  least  so  it  seems  to.  me,  has  arisen  in  great  measure 
from  the  fact  that  it  has  too  often  been  regarded  from 
a  wrong  point  of  view.  It  is,  therefore,  incumbent 
upon  us,  in  the  very  outset,  to  get  a  definite  and  cor- 
rect conception  of  the  circumstances  in  which  it  was 
spoken,  and  of  the  story  which  it  tells. 

Now,  as  to  the  first  of  these,  it  is  clear  from  the  place 
in  which  we  find  it  here,  that  it  was  addressed  to  the 
same  audience  as  that  which  had  already  listened  to 
those  three  delightful  allegories  on  the  consideration  of 
which  we  have  been  so  recently  engaged.  Like  them, 
therefore,  it  was  called  forth  by  certain  well-known 
characteristics  of  the  scribes  and  Pharisees.  No  doubt, 
in  the  opening  verse  of  the  chapter,  it  is  introduced  by 
the  words,  "  he  said  also  unto  his  disciples ;  "  but,  as  is 
evident  from  the  application  of  it  made  to  themselves 
by  the  Pharisees,  in  the  fourteenth  verse,  the  design  of 
our  Lord  was  not  only  to  warn  his  followers  against 
that  which  was  evil  in  tlie  Pharisees,  but  also  to  get  at 
the  Pharisees  through  his  address  to  them,  if  haply  they 


^ 


372  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

might  thereby  be  led  to  repentance.  The  two  evil  quali- 
ties by  which  that  class  of  the  people  was  distinguished 
were  pride  and  coveteousness ;  and  just  as,  in  the  Ser- 
mon on  the  Mount,  our  Lord  passes  from  the  exposure 
of  the  one  of  these  directly  and  immediately  to  that  of 
the  other ;  so  here  the  transition  is  equally  rapid  from 
the  reproof  of  the  exclusiveness  which  sneered  at  him 
for  receiving  sinners,  and  eating  with  them,  to  the  con- 
demnation of  the  worldliness  which  insisted  on  keeping 
to  itself  that  with  which  it  had  been  intrusted  for  the 
good  of  others. 

Even  the  most  cursory  reader  will  observe  that  there 
is  a  point  of  contact  between  this  parable  and  that 
which  precedes  it,  in  the  fact,  that,  while  the  prodigal 
son  is  said  to  have  "  wasted  his  sujostance,"  the  steward 
is  accused  of  having  "wasted"  his  master's  "goods:" 
the  design  of  our  Lord  evidently  being,  to  teach  these 
believers  in  self-righteous  respectability  that  there  are 
other  ways  of  misusing  the  portion  which  God  has 
given  us,  than  by  riotous  living ;  and  that  he  who  ap- 
propriates as  his  own  that  which  he  has  received  for 
behoof  of  another  is  as  really  unfaithful  to  God  as  is 
the  dissolute  man  who  spends  his  substance  on  the 
gratification  of  appetite. 

The  parable  thus  is  an  exposure  of  covetousness,  with 
a  lesson  founded  thereon  for  the  children  of  God. 

The  principal  figure  in  the  story  is  a  steward,  who, 
like  Eliezer  in  the  household  of  Abraham,  or  Joseph  in 
that  of  Potiphar,  had  been  intrusted  by  a  certain  ricli 
man  with  the  entire  control  of  his  affairs.  It  would 
seem  that  this  master  had  the  most  implicit  confidence 
in  his  servant ;  so  that  it  might  be  said  of  him,  as  it  is 
of  Potiphar  with  Joseph,  "He  left  all  that  he  had  in 


THE  PRUDENT  STEWARD.  373 

his  steward's  hand ;  and  he  knew  not  aught  he  had,  save 
the  bread  which  lie  did  eat."^  But  after  a  time  such 
evidence  was  Laid  before  him  as  [)roved  conclusively  to 
him  that  his  confidence  had  been  misphiced.  He  found 
that  he  was  being  systematically  robbed  by  a  dishonest 
man  ;  and  therefore  he  called  at  once  for  a  reckoning, 
and  announced  to  his  steward  that  he  could  not  longer 
continue  in  his  service.  This  came  upon  the  defalcator 
like  a  bolt  of  lightning  from  a  cloudless  sky,  and 
brought  him  at  once  to  a  stand-still.  What  was  he  to 
do  now?  It  was  impossible  to  establish  his  innocence. 
He  would  have  to  go ;  but  whither  ?  How  could  he 
get  another  situation,  with  this  stigma  upon  Ins  name  ? 
Manual  labor  with  the  spade  was  out  of  the  question. 
''  He  could  not  dig."  He  had  led  too  effeminate  a 
life  to  be  able  to  make  much  at  that.  And  though  he 
had  not  been  ashamed  to  steal,  he  was  ashamed  to  beg. 
There  was  nothing  for  it,  therefore,  but  to  steal  again. 

But  this  time  lie  would  make  others  sharers  in  his 
dishonesty ;  or,  rather,  lie  would  use  his  dishonesty  for 
the  advantage  of  others,  so  that  they  might  be  laid 
under  such  obligations  to  him  that  they  would  be  con- 
strained to  take  some  care  of  him.  This  was  his  plan. 
He  sent  for  all  who  were  indebted  to  his  master,  and 
systematically  reduced  their  debts,  which,  as  being  still 
steward,  —  though  "working  his  warning,"  as  we  would 
say,  —  he  had  yet  the  power  to  do.  He  Ijade  one  who 
owed  a  hundred  measures  of  oil,  make  the  bill  for  fifty  ; 
and  another  who  owed  a  hundred  measures  of  wheat, 
make  the  bill  for  eighty,  and  so  on.  Knowing  his  men, 
he  did  with  each  as  it  was  most  for  his  advantage  to 
do,  and  tlius  insured  a  reception  in  each  of  their  houses 
for  a  longer  or  shorter  period,  until  he  should  have  time 

1  Gt'U.  xxxix.  (). 


374  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

to  turn  his  energies  into  some  other  direction.  Thus 
he  tampered  with  the  accounts  of  his  master,  apparently 
for  the  immediate  advantage  of  the  debtors,  but  really 
for  his  own  ultimate  benefit. 

This  is  a  much  better  account  of  the  matter  than  that 
given  by  those  who  would  represent  him  as  returning 
in  this  act  of  his  to  a  course  of  honesty.  They  would 
explain  the  transaction  thus :  that  he  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  charge  for  a  hundred  when  he  had  really 
given  only  fifty  or  fourscore  measures,  putting  the  sur- 
plus into  his  own  pocket  (much  after  the  fashion  of 
the  members  of  the  ring,  who,  in  the  building  of  our 
City  Hall,  had  the  contractors'  bills  made  out  for  one 
amount,  but  paid  by  a  much  smaller  one,  and,  charging 
the  community  for  the  larger  which  was  on  the  face  of 
the  document,  divided  the  difference  among  themselves), 
but  that  now  he  charged  only  for  the  correct  number^ 
But  the  objection  to  this  view  of  the  steward's  action 
is,  that  he  meant  to  conciliate  the  debtorso  Now, 
the  discovery  that  all  the  while  he  had  been  robbing 
them  would  only  have  exasperated  them,  and  would 
have  determined  them  to  have  nothing  more  to  do  with 
him.  For  in  this  case  they  would  be  in  the  position  in 
which  the  citizens  of  New  York  were  when  they  dis- 
covered the  fraud  that  had  been  perpetrated  upon  them ; 
and  so  we  may  know  what  they  would  have  felt  at  the 
revelation  of  the  manner  in  which  they  had  been 
robbed.  Besides,  it  was  his  master  whorn  this  steward 
had  wronged ;  not,  as  in  this  view  of  the  matter  it 
would  have  been,  his  master's  debtors  :  and  so  far  from 
having  here  a  return  to  a  course  of  honesty,  we  see  only 
a  continuance  in  the  same  kind  of  robbery  which  he  had 
so  long  carried  on,  the  simple  difference  being  that  it 
looked  as  if  he  were  now  doine  it  for  the  advantage  of 


THE  PRUDENT  STEWARD.  375 

the  debtors,  though  ultimately  it  was  done,  just  as  it 
hud  been  all  along,  for  his  own  benefit. 

By  some  means  or  other  his  course  became  known  to 
his  master,  who  had  perhaps,  by  that  time,  overcome 
the  bitterness  ot"  his  first  indignation,  so  far  as  to  be 
able  to  look  at  the  humorous  side  of  the  affair,  and  who 
therefore,  when  he  heard  of  it,  said,  "•  What  an  amaz- 
ingly shrewd  fellow  he  is !  It  would  be  ludicrous  if  it 
were  not  so  criminal ;  and  if  only  his  probity  had  been 
up  to  the  level  of  his  prudence,  he  might  have  risen 
honestly  to  wealth  and  power." 

That  is  the  story ;  and  before  I  leave  it,  I  ask  you  to 
observe  that  the  commendation  of  the  steward,  which 
was  confined  to  the  wisdom  or  prudence  which  he  had 
displayed,  was  given  not  by  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  but 
by  his  own  master  whom  he  had  so  flagrantly  wronged; 
and  if  we  read  with  the  Revised  Version,  "his  lord  com- 
mended the  unjust  or  unrighteous  steward  because  he 
had  done  wisely,"  or  shrewdly,  we  shall  rid  the  phrase 
of  ambiguity,  and  prevent  any  one  from  falling  into  the 
mistake  of  supposing  that  the  commendation  was  from 
Christ. 

But  now,  proceeding  to  the  interpretation,  I  think  it 
must  be  evident  to  every  one,  that  this  parable,  like 
those  of  the  good  Samaritan,  the  friend  at  midnight, 
and  one  or  two  others,  is  not  typical  or  symbolical,  but 
simply  illustrative.  It  is  not  an  allegory,  each  figure  in 
which  is  to  be  taken  as  the  analogue  of  some  spiritual 
character;  and  so,  if  we  begin  to  ask.  Whom  does  the 
rich  man  stand  for?  who  is  represented  by  the  steward? 
whom  are  wo  to  understand  by  the  debtors?  and  so 
forth,  we  shall  make  a  most  fantastic,  and,  indeed,  a 
most  artificial  use  of  the  stor}'.     Many  have  tried  this 


376  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

plan ;  but  when  such  a  biblical  student  as  Dean  Plump- 
tre  ^  has  spent  much  learned  ingenuity  in  seeking  to 
establish  that  the  steward  represents  the  scribes  and 
Pharisees  in  their  teachings  and  ministerial  functions, 
who  had  been  intrusted  hy  God,  here  rejoresented  by 
the  rich  man,  with  great  privileges,  to  which  they  had 
been  unfaithful,  and  ends  by  saying  that  they  were 
commended  by  the  Lord,  who  in  the  outer  framework 
of  the  parable  is  one  of  the  cliildren  of  this  world,  we 
see  into  what  absurdity  we  must  be  landed  if  we  follow 
this  principle  of  exposition.  For,  how  can  God  be  in 
any  sense  represented  by  one  of  the  children  of  this 
world  ? 

We  must,  therefore,  discard  all  typical  interpretation 
here ;  and  we  find  the  key  to  the  purpose  of  the  parable 
in  the  words,  "  For  the  cliildren  of  this  world  are,  in 
their  generation,  wiser  than  the  cliildren  of  light."  The 
ancients  had  a  proverb  to  the  effect  that  "  It  is  lawful 
to  learn,  even  from  an  enemy  ; "  and  something  like 
that  is  exemplified  by  the  Saviour  here.  His  purpose  is 
to  stimulate  his  disciples  to  prudence  and  energy  in  the 
prosecution  of  their  high  calling,  by  showing  them  how 
shrewd  and  prompt  the  worldling  is  in  devising  and 
carrying  out  measures  to  secure  his  earthly  and  tem- 
poral ends.  Hence  he  has  deliberately  selected  the 
case  of  one  of  "  the  children  of  this  world."  The 
example  of  a  faithful  servant  might  teach  many  other 
valuable  lessons ;  but  only  that  of  an  unscrupulous 
man  of  the  world  could  give  prominence  to  the  earnest- 
ness and  sagacity  with  which  those  of  his  class  labor  to 
gain  their  objects,  and  so,  as  it  were,  provoke  Christians 
to  outdo  them  in  those  qualities,  while  laboring  for  an 

1  In  EUicott's  New-Testament  Commentary  for  English  Readers, 
vol.  i,  p.  320. 


4 


THE   PRUDENT  STEWARD.  377 

infinitely  nobler  end.  Thus,  looking  at  the  whole  par- 
able from  the  standpoint  of  these  words,  the  very  thing 
which  stumbles  most  readers  —  namely,  that  Christ 
should  have  held  up  the  case  of  a  dishonest  man  in  any 
respect  as  an  incentive  to  his  followers  —  becomes  per- 
fectly intelligible,  and  is  seen  to  be  similar  to  much  that 
is  current  among  ourselves.  Thus,  though  my  house 
may  have  been  broken  into,  and  robbed  of  many  things 
which  I  most  highly  value,  I  may  yet  admire  the  inge- 
nuity and  dexterity  shown  by  the  burglar  in  the  means 
which  he  took  to  find  an  entrance  into  my  dwelling; 
and  I  may  even  go  so  far  as  to  say  to  an  honest  but 
lethargic  and  unambitious  workman  that  if  he  could 
only  take,  in  these  respects,  a  leaf  out  of  the  robber's 
book,  he  would  soon  rise  to  wealth  and  eminence.  But 
all  that  is  so  far  from  an  approval  of  the  character  and 
doings  of  the  thief,  that  it  is  perfectly  consistent  with 
my  gratification  at  his  consignment  to  the  State's  prison 
as  the  punishment  of  his  crime. 

Thus  the  singling-out  of  one  quality  in  a  man  for 
special  commendation  is  very  different  from  the  lauda- 
tion of  his  character  or  conduct  as  a  whole.  When  the 
Saviour  said  to  his  followers,  "  Be  ye  wise  as  serpents," 
he  did  not  thereby  commend  the  other  qualities  of 
malignity  and  venomousness  which  are  generally  as- 
cribed to  these  reptiles.  He  desired  them  only  to  imi- 
tate their  wisdom.  In  like  manner,  when,  in  the  parable 
before  us,  the  Lord  uses  the  shrewdness  of  this  steward 
to  point  a  lesson  to  his  followers,  we  are  not  to  imagine, 
for  a  moment,  that  he  makes  light  of  his  dishonesty. 
His  reasoning,  as  in  the  parable  of  "the  friend  at  mid- 
night," is  from  the  worse  to  the  better,  and  may  be  ex- 
panded thus:  If  a  child  of  this  world  can  show  such 
wisdom  in  providing  for  his  comfort  when  he  is  to  lose 


378  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

his  earthly  situation,  liow  much  more  ought  the  children 
of  light  to  forecast  their  future,  and  seek  to  secure  their 
eternal  welfare  in  that  coming  emergency  when  the 
place  which  now  knows  them  shall  know  them  no 
more !  Perhaps,  better  than  all  other  interpreters, 
Neander  has  caught  the  spirit  of  this  parable,  when  he 
distils  its  essence  into  these  words :  "  As  the  children 
of  the  world  aim  steadily  at  their  selfish  objects,  and 
with  ever-watchful  prudence  seize  upon  the  means  neces- 
sary to  secure  them,  so  the  children  of  light  are  to  keep 
constantly  before  their  eyes  the  relations  of  life  to  the 
Divine  kingdom,  and  to  press  every  thing  into  their  ser- 
vice on  its  behalf."  ^ 

This  steward  subordinated  all  other  considerations 
to  the  attainment  of  liis  end.  He  let  no  qualms  of 
conscience,  or  protests  of  his  better  nature,  keep  him 
from  doing  that  which  would  serve  his  purpose.  The 
securing  of  his  own  personal  comfort  was  the  one  great 
object  which  he  had  set  before  him,  and  nothing  what- 
ever was  allowed  to  stand  in  the  way  of  that.  Now, 
the  Christian  professes  that  his  great  life-aim  is  the 
formation  of  a  holy  character  through  faith  in  Jesus 
Christ  and  obedience  unto  him.  He  admits  also  that 
every  thing  else  ought  to  be  made  and  kept  subordinate 
thereto ;  but  alas !  he  does  not  always  act  on  that 
admission.  Those  things  which  in  theory  he  calls  sec- 
ondary, he  very  often  allows  to  become  primary ;  and 
very  frequently  he  loses  sight  of  the  interests  of  eter- 
nity, in  his  devotion  to  those  of  time.  Hence  the  sin- 
gleness of  purpose  with  which  the  unscrupulous  man 
pursues  his  object  may  well  be  commended  to  his  study, 
and  he  may  be  taught  thereby  to  concentrate  himself 
and  his  life  upon  the  "  one  thing  "  of  pressing  on  toward 

J  Life  of  Christ,  Bohn's  edition,  p.  300. 


THJS  PRUDENT  STEWARD.  371) 

the  mark  "  for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God  in 
Christ  Jesus."  ^ 

How  promptly,  too,  this  steward  set  about  his  work  ! 
As  soon  as  he  resolved,  he  acted.  lie  "let  no  grass 
grow  beneath  his  feet,"  and  even  insisted  on  the  debtors 
when  they  came  to  him  writing  "  quickly."  The  whole 
scene  speaks  of  haste.  What  he  determined  to  do,  he 
did  with  his  might.  But  if  the  soul's  interests  are  infi- 
nitely more  valuable  than  wealth,  then  they  ought  to 
be  attended  to  with  yet  greater  promptitude  ;  and  it  is 
because  so  often  spiritual  things  are  made,  even  by 
Christians,  to  give  way  to  material,  and  we  procrasti- 
nate in  the  former  more  frequently  by  far  than  in  the 
latter,  that  "the  children  of  this  world  are  in  their 
generation  wiser  than  the  children  of  light." 

How  well  adapted  to  his  end,  also,  were  the  means 
which  this  steward  emploj^ed !  They  were  dishonest, 
indeed ;  but  yet  they  laid  his  lord's  debtors  under  such 
obligation,  that,  for  their  oAvn  interests,  they  were  in  a 
manner  compelled  to  give  him  blackmail.  When  they 
had  accepted  his  terms,  they  had  put  themselves  into 
his  power;  and  they  had  to  give  him  something  for 
hush-money.  But  how  little  practical  sagacity -Chris- 
tians often  show  in  the  choice  of  means  for  the  attain- 
ment of  their  spiritual  ends !  They  know  how  necessary 
the  services  of  the  sanctuary  are  for  the  sustenance  of 
their  si)iritual  life ;  and  yet  they  attend  on  them  with 
irregularity,  and  become  systematic  absentees  for  half* 
the  day.  They  are  aware  how  much  the  inlluence  of 
intimate  companionships  affects  the  growth  of  holy 
character;  and  yet  they  cultivate  the  friendship  of 
those  who  have  no  love  of  Christ  in  their  hearts,  simply 
because  they  enjoy  their  brilliant  wit,  or  may  profit  by 

1  Phil.  Hi.  13,  14. 


380  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

their  business  patronage.  They  admit  that  the  choice 
of  a  partner  in  trade,  or  of  a  business  or  of  a  profession 
for  life,  has  much  to  do  with  their  progress  in  holiness; 
and  yet  they  decide  in  such  matters  without  any  regard 
whatever  to  that  fact.  Now,  if  they  did  not  profess  to 
be  "the  children  of  light,"  there  would  be  no  incon- 
sistency in  all  that;  but  to  protest  in  words,  that  the 
prosecution  of  the  Christian  life  is  their  great  business 
on  earth,  and  to  disregard  those  things  which  are  inti- 
mately connected  with  the  success  of  that  business,  is 
to  show,  in  tlie  domain  of  spiritual  things,  a  carelessness 
and  a  folly  that  are  never  manifested  by  worldly  men 
in  the  prosecution  of  that  which  is  to  them  the  supreme 
good.  Can  we  wonder  that  the  type  of  Christian  char- 
acter is  low  among  us  at  this  rate?  If  one  were  to 
attempt  to  conduct  a  manufacturing  concern  or  an 
importing  trade  in  such  a  way,  he  would  very  soon  find 
himself  a  bankrupt.  Yet,  as  we  have  seen,  it  is  just 
thus  that  many  proceed  in  the  formation  of  a  holy  char- 
acter ;  and  unless  they  alter  their  course,  they  will  very 
soon  be  spiritually  insolvent.  Bankrupt  in  character ! 
That  is  the  most  deplorable  of  all  ruins.  My  brethren, 
let  us  take  timely  warning  here ;  and,  whenever  we 
have  to  decide  on  matters  which  intimately  concern  our 
growth  in  holiness,  let  us  make  our  spiritual  welfare 
the  determining  element,  lest  we  f)ut  serious  obstacles 
in  our  heavenward  way,  and  give  a  new  illustration  of 
the  Lord's  assertion,  that  "the  children  of  this  world 
are,  in  their  generation,  wiser  than  the  children  of 
light."  Shame  on  us,  that  this  allegation  should  be 
ever  true !  What  have  the  children  of  this  world  to 
stimulate  them,  that  they  should  surpass  us  in  this 
particular  ?  They  are  not  under  the  constraining  influ- 
ence of  the  love  of  Christ.      They  have  no  heavenly 


THE  PRUDENT  STEWARD.  381 

crown  awaiting  them  on  liigli.  They  are  moved  only 
by  appetite,  or  the  love  of  money,  or  the  love  of  fame, 
or  the  love  of  power ;  and  all  of  these  are  things  tran- 
sient and  temporary  as  the  life  of  earth.  Shall  it  any 
longer  be  said  that  these  influences  are  felt  by  them  to 
be  stronger  than  we  feel  those  to  be  which  come  from 
the  cross  of  Calvary  and  the  throne  of  glory?  How 
long  shall  we  live  thus,  beneath  our  principles?  If 
Daal  be  God,  let  us  follow  him  ;  but  if  Jehovah,  then 
let  us  folloiv  him.  If  we  are  the  children  of  liijht,  let 
us  walk  as  such,  and  no  longer  allow  it  to  be  said  that 
"  the  cliildrcn  of  this  world  are,  in  their  generation, 
wiser  than  we." 

That  is  the  general  drift  and  purpose  of  the  lesson 
which  the  Lord  himself  has  drawn  for  us  from  the  para- 
ble before  us ;  but  in  the  verses  which  follow,  from  the 
nint^i  to  the  thirteenth  inclusive,  we  have  a  particular 
application  of  this  lesson  to  the  use  of  money :  and  we 
must  attempt  to  sliow  you  the  meaning  and  pertinence 
of  these  precepts  in  this  place. 

There  is,  first  of  all,  this  statement  uttered  with  all 
authority  and  solemnity  by  the  Lord ;  "  And  I  say  unto 
you,  Make  to  yourselves  friends  of  the  mammon  of  un- 
righteousness ;  that  when  ye  fail,"  —  or,  as  it  is  in  the 
Revised  Version,  "  when  it  shall  fail,"  — "  they  may 
receive  you  into  everlasting  habitations."  By  the 
"  mammon  of  unrighteousness,"  Ave  are  very  clearly  to 
understand  money;  but  why  it  has  been  so  called  by 
Christ,  is  not  so  evident.  Indeed,  I  have  seen  no  ex- 
planation of  this  matter  which  thoroughly  commends 
itself  to  my  acceptance ;  and  T  am  not  prepared  with 
any  one  of  my  own.     Perhaps  tlie  simplest,  as  it  is  cer- 


382  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

tainly  the  most  obvious,  is  because  it  is  so  frequently 
,  unrighteously  acquired,  and  so  much  more  frequently 
•^  unrighteously  regarded  as  the  man's  own  possession, 
and  not  as  a  trust  of  which  he  is  merely  a  steward. 
But,  however  the  epithet  "  unrighteous "  may  be  ac- 
counted for,  the  thing  which  it  characterizes  is  money. 
Now,  there  is  a  time  when  that  shall  fail.  Death  says 
to  each  man,  "  Give  an  account  of  thy  stewardship,  for 
thou  mayest  be  no  longer  steward."  We  can  carry  with 
us  nothing  out  of  this  world.  Money  cannot,  simply 
and  only  as  money,  be  transferred  into  the  world  be- 
yond. But  it  may  be  so  used  in  this  world  as  to  add  to 
— -  and  intensify  a  Christian's  happiness  in  the  next.  We 
are  familiar  with  the  fact,  in  our  daily  lives  here,  that 
money  may  become  the  means  of  procuring  that  which 
is  better  than  itself.  Thus  knowledge  is  better  than 
wealth ;  yet  by  a  wise  use  of  wealth  we  may  acquire 
knowledge.  So,  by  a  judicious  employment  of  money 
-^  as  trustees  for  God,  in  comnuinicating  to  the  necessities 
of  the  saints,  we  shall  secure  that  those  whom  we  have 
thus  relieved  shall  receive  us  into  everlasting  habita- 
tions. This  use  of  money  will  not  purchase  our  admis- 
sion into  heaven ,  but  it  will  make  friends  for  us  there, 
whose  gratitude  will  add  to  our  enjoyment,  and  increase 
our  blessedness.  It  will  not  open  the  gates  for  our  en- 
trance. Only  Christ  is  the  door.  Through  him  alone 
can  we  gain  ingress.  But  it  will  affect  what  Peter  calls 
the  "  abundance  "  of  our  entrance,  for  it  will  secure  the 
presence  there  of  those  who  have  been  benefited  by  our 
faithful  stewardship ;  and,  chiefest  of  all,  it  will  be  re- 
warded with  the  approbation  of  Him  who  will  say, 
"Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these 
my  brethren,  ye  did  it  unto  me."  It  is  of  grace  alone, 
through  Christ,  that  we  are  permitted  to  enter  heaven  ; 


THE  PRUDENT  STEWARD.  383 

but  once  there,  the  measure  of  reward  will  be  graduated 
according  to  that  of  our  faithfulness  here  as  "good  stew- 
ards of  the  manifold  bounties  of  God."  Those  who  have 
been  helped  and  blessed  by  our  service  on  earth  will  lead 
us  up  to  the  throne,  and  say,  "  This  is  he  of  whom  we 
have  often  spoken,  and  to  whom  we  were  so  much  be- 
holden in  the  life  below;"  and  He  who  sitteth  thereon 
will  reply,  "  Well  done  :  let  it  he  done  unto  him  as  unto 
the  man  whom  the  King  delighteth  to  honor."  Thus, 
though  money  cannot  be  taken  with  us  into  the  future 
life,  we  yet  may  so  employ  it  here,  in  stewardship  for 
God,  as  to  send  on  treasure  before  us  into  heaven,  in 
the  shape  of  friends,  who  shall  throughout  eternity  re- 
double and  intensify  our  happiness.  Here,  therefore, 
is  an  everlasting  advantage  obtained,  not  by  the  dis- 
honest application  of  that  with  which  we  have  been 
intrusted,  but  by  our  faithful  administration  thereof 
as  the  stewards  of  the  Most  High  ;  and  if  this  truth 
were  more  thoroughly  believed  among  us,  and  acted 
upon  with  any  thing  like  the  energy  and  promptitude 
displayed  by  this  unscrupulous  servant,  there  would  be 
such  a  consecration  of  wealth  throughout  the  churches 
as  would  usher  in  the  very  dawning  of  the  millennial 
day. 

But  let  us  follow  the  course  of  the  Saviour's  thought 
as  he  adds,  "  He  that  is  faithful  in  that  which  is  least  is 
faithful  also  in  much ;  and  he  that  is  unjust  in  the  least 
is  unjust  also  in  much."  The  connection  seems  to  be 
this:  "You.  may  allege  that  you  have  too  little  of  this 
world's  goods  to  be  much  concerned  with  the  truth 
which  I  have  now  announced ;  but  that  is  a  mistake,  for 
fidelity  does  not  depend  upon  the  amount  intrusted  to 
you,  but  on  the  use  to  which  that  amount,  however 
small,  is  ])ut  by  you ;  and  that,  again,  depends  on  your 


384  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

sense  of  responsibility  as  a  steward  unto  God."  The 
faithful  man  will  be  true  to  his  trust,  whether  it  is  small 
or  great ;  and  the  unfaithful  man  will  be  false  to  his 
trust,  whether  it  is  small  or  great.  Character  will  re- 
veal itself  alike  in  the  least  and  in  the  greatest.  Hence 
that  which  is  least  is  intrusted  to  us  for  a  test  of  char- 
acter ;  and  fidelity  therein  is  the  gateway  of  our  en- 
trance into  a  larger  trust.  He  who  has  proved  himself 
to  be  reliable  in  a  smaller  sphere  is  raised  to  a  higher; 
but  he  who  makes  an  improper  use  of  minor  facilities 
shall  not  only  not  be  permitted  to  enjoy  greater,  but 
shall  be  deprived  of  those  which  he  has  heretofore  pos- 
sessed. This  is  the  principle  on  which  God  has  pro- 
ceeded in  his  government  of  the  world.  To  him  that 
hath,  shall  more  be  given  ;  and  from  him  that  hath  not, 
shall  be  taken  away  that  which  he  hath.  Hence  the 
Lord  Jesus  adds,  "If  therefore  ye  have  not  been  faith- 
fid  in  the  unrighteous  mammon,  who  will  commit  to 
your  trust  the  true  riches?  And  if  ye  have  not  been 
faithful  in  that  which  is  another's,  who  will  give  you 
that  which  is  your  own  ?  "  That  is  to  say :  The  money 
which  men  have  here  is  another's,  even  God's.  In  com- 
parison with  the  abiding  treasures  of  eternity,  which 
are  the  true  riches,  it  is  temporal  and  transient ;  and  a 
time  is  coming  when  it  shall  fail :  but  if  the  man  who 
has  been  intrusted  with  it  has  been  unfaithful,  and  has 
appropriated  to  himself  what  really  belonged  to  God, 
how  can  it  be  expected  that  God  will  give  him  the  en- 
during wealth  of  the  skies,  which  shall  be  his  very  own, 
inalienable  possession  ? 

And  lest  any  one  should  be  tempted  to  suppose  that 
it  is  possible  so  to  combine  both  the  services  of  God 
and  mammon,  as  to  secure  independence  of  God  on 
earth,  and  happiness  with.  God  in  heaven,  the  Saviour 


THE   PRUDENT  STEWARD.  385 

is  careful  to  reniiud  his  hearers  that  character  is  a  moral 
unit;  that  the  soul  can  have  but  one  real  master;  that, 
if  we  repudiate  responsibility  to  God  for  our  money,  Ave 
are  simply  and  only  the  servants  of  mammon,  and  that 
as  such  we  shall  be  dealt  with  at  the  last.  "No  ser- 
vant can  serve  two  masters :  for  either  he  will  hate  the 
one  and  love  the  other,  or  else  he  will  hold  to  the  one 
and  despise  the  other.  Ye  cannot  serve  God  and  mam- 
mon." Every  man  must  serve  some  master.  There 
are  only  two  masters  offered  to  our  choice.  These  two 
masters  are  in  every  respect  antagonistic  to  each  other. 
God  is  love,  mammon  is  selfishness ;  God  is  holiness, 
mammon  is  sin ;  God  stands  for  the  supremacy  of  the 
spiritual  and  eternal,  mammon  insists  on  the  pre-emi-" 
nence  of  the  seen  and  the  temporal.  These  are  the 
only  masters  whom  a  man  can  serve ;  and  being  such 
as  they  are,  there  can  be  no  compromise  between  them. 
It  is  impossible  for  any  one  to  obey  them  both  at  once. 
You  must  break  with  the  one  if  you  would  submit  to 
the  other.  You  may  serve  the  one  after  the  other;  and, 
indeed,  most  of  those  who  are  now  serving  God  have 
once,  in  some  form  or  other,  been  the  servants  of  mam- 
mon. You  may  serve  the  one  in  pretence,  and  the 
other  in  reality,  as  I  fear  some  are  .doing  now.  You 
may  serve  God  if  so  you  determine,  or  you  may  serve 
mammon  if  that  should  be  your  choice ;  but  the  two 
are  so  antagonistic,  the  one  to  the  other,  that  "ye  can- 
not serve  God  and  mammon  ;  "  and  if  3'"ou  wish  to  pre- 
serve your  faithfulness  as  a  steward  to  God,  you  must 
forever  renounce  all  allegiance  to  mammon. 

The  sum  of  the  teaching  of  these  weighty  verses, 
then,  is  this :  There  are  two  kinds  of  riches,  the  tran- 
sient and  the  true,  —  those  which  we  hold  in  trust  for 
another,  and  those  which   are   eternally  our  own ;    of 


386  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

these  we  must  speak  of  the  former  as  that  which  is 
least,  and  of  the  latter  as  that  which  is  greatest.  That 
—  which  is  least  is  intrusted  to  us  now  and  here,  as  a  test 
of  character ;  and  according  as  we  are  or  are  not  faith- 
ful in  our  management  of  that,  we  shall  or  shall  not 
receive  that  which  is  greatest  hereafter.  Faithfulness 
in  our  management  of  that  which  is  least  requires  that 
we  should  use  it  for  God's  glory,  in  promoting  the  wel- 
fare of  his  children  and  the  advancement  of  his  cause  ; 
and  if  we  would  so  use  it,  we  must  keep  our  hearts 
simply  and  entirely  for  God  as  the  supreme  and  only 
JNIaster  Avhom  we  serve.  The  devotee  of  mammon,  like 
this  unrighteous  steward  wise  in  his  generation,  makes 
every  thing  bend  to  the  attainment  of  his  worldly  pur- 
pose :  much  more,  therefore,  should  the  servant  of  God 
subordinate  every  thing  to  the  doing  of  his  Master's 
,  will ;  and  when  he  does  that,  he  will  find  that  out  of 
i  the  perishing  possessions  of  earth,  he  has  made  imper- 
^  '  ishable  friends  in  heaven,  who  shall  add  a  feature  of 
peculiar  and  ecstatic  joy  to  the  happiness  of  his  celes- 
tial life.  Men  think  that  they  have  made  great  profit 
when,  by  their  money,  they  have  secured  more  than 
their  money's  worth:  but  here  through  the  typical 
they  gain  the  true ;  through  that  which  is  another's,  they 
obtain  that  which  shall  be  their  own ;  through  that 
which  is  perishing,  they  get  that  which  is  imperishable. 
What  a  glorious  investment !  and  how  blind  to  our 
own  interests  we  are  in  neglecting  to  make  it ! 


THE  lilCU  MAN  AND  LAZARUS.  387 


XXV. 

THE  RICH  MAN  AND  LAZARUS. 

(Luke  xvi.  19-3L) 

Probably  no  one  of  the  Saviour's  parables  needs  to 
be  so  cautiously  liaiuUed  as  this  of  the  rich  man  and 
Lazarus.  The  difficulty  arises  from  the  fact  that  the 
latter  portion  of  it  refers  to  the  invisible  world,  regarding 
which  its  representations  have  to  be  taken  from  the  visi- 
ble. Now,  wherever  the  spiritual  is  expressed  in  terms 
of  the  material,  we  are  liable  to  serious  error  in  the  inter- 
pretation of  that  expression ;  and  so  we  need  here  to  be 
specially  on  our  guard.  In  the  exposition  which  I  am 
about  to  give,  therefore,  I  shall  endeavor  to  bring  into 
prominence  the  great  truths  which  the  parable  was  in- 
tended to  emphasize,  without  pressing  into  significance 
those  features  of  it  which  belong  to  what  I  may  call  the 
figurative  framework  in  which  it  is  set. 

Every  careful  reader  of  the  chapter  as  a  whole  will 
perceive  at  once  that  the  story,  on  the  consideration  of 
which  we  are  now  to  enter,  is  the  complement  of  that 
of  the  prudent  steward.  It  treats  of  the  same  general 
subject,  and  was  designed  to  give  sharper  point  to  the 
moral  which  that  had  enforced,  and  to  deepen  the  im- 
pression which  that  had  produced. 

True,  there  are  between  tliem  certain  verses  which 
express  some  very  important  principles,  the  pertinence 
of  which  in  this  particular  connection  it  is  hard  to  dis- 


388  THE  PAEABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

cover ;  but  the  introduction  of  which  in  this  place  may 
be  explained,  perhaps,  on  the  supposition  that  they  were 
answers  to  remarks  made  by  the  Pharisees,  with  the 
view  of  interrupting,  and,  if  possible,  of  terminating, 
a  discourse  which  was  felt  by  them  to  be  too  personal 
to  be  quite  agreeable.  Tn  any  case,  it  would  be  rash  to 
affirm  with  many  that  these  verses  are  here  out  of  their 
proper  context :  for  we  can  see  that  the  assertion,  "  that 
which  is  highly  esteemed  among  men  is  abomination  in 
the  sight  of  God,"  is  fearfully  illustrated  by  this  para- 
ble ;  while  the  statement  that  "  it  is  easier  for  heaven 
and  earth  to  pass,  than  one  tittle  of  the  law  to  fail," 
re-appears  in  another  form,  in  the  words  with  which  the 
story  ends  :  "  if  the}"  believe  not  Moses  and  the  proph- 
ets, neither  will  they  be  persuaded  though  one  rose 
from  the  dead."  There  must  therefore  be  some  sul)tile 
link  of  association  between  these  verses  and  that  which 
follows  them,  if  our  eyes  were  keen  enough  to  trace  it ; 
but  the  existence  of  that  is  not  at  all  inconsistent  with 
the  truth  of  the  assertion,  already  made  by  ns,  that  this 
parable  is  the  companion  and  complement  of  that  of 
the  prudent  steward,  and  has  its  interj)reting  clauses 
in  the  verses  appended  by  our  Lord  to  that  difficult  but 
graphic  story. 

To  see  that  such  is  the  case,  you  have  but  to  look  at 
these  verses,  and  then  read  the  parable.  In  the  first  of 
the  verses  we  have  these  words :  "  I  say  unto  you,  jNIake 
to  yourselves  friends  of  the  mammon  of  unrighteous- 
ness, that  when  it  shall  fail,  they  may  receive  you  into 
everlasting  habitations ; "  and  in  the  parable  we  have 
the  history  of  a  man  who,  though  he  had  the  mammon 
of  unrighteousness  in  abundance,  failed  to  employ  it  in 
that  beneficent  manner,  and  so  found  himself,  after 
death,  without  a  friend,  excluded  from  the  habitations 


THE   RICH  MAN  AND  LAZARUS.  389 

of  the  blessed.  In  the  second  of  these  verses  the 
Lord  says,  "  He  that  is  faithful  in  that  which  is  least  is 
faithful  also  in  much ;  and  he  that  is  unjust  in  the  least 
is  unjust  also  in  much ; "  and  in  the  parable  we  have 
unveiled  to  us  the  future  life  of  one  who  was  unjust  in 
that  which  was  least,  and  who  as  a  consequence  was 
denied  the  enjoyment  of  that  which  is  greatest.  In  the 
third  of  these  verses  the  Saviour  asks  the  questions,  "  If 
ye  have  not  been  faithful  in  the  unrighteous  mammon, 
who  will  commit  to  your  trust  the  true  riches  ?  And 
if  ye  have  not  been  faithful  in  that  which  is  another's, 
who  shall  give  you  that  which  is  your  own  ? "  and  in 
the  parable  we  have  the  case  of  a  man  who  was  unfaith- 
ful in  the  use  of  that  mone}'  which  was  not  his  but 
God's,  and  who  ultimately  was  refused  the  true,  abid- 
ing, personal,  and  inalienable  riches  of  eternal  blessed- 
ness. Thus,  like  that  of  the  steward,  this  parable 
treats  of  the  use  of  money;  and  the  difference  between 
the  two  is,  that,  while  the  one  shows  how  riches  laid 
out  beneficently  in  stewardship  for  God  may  add  to  the 
blessedness  of  the  soul  in  heaven,  the  other  illustrates 
how  wealth  unfaithfully  and  selfishly  emploj^ed  must 
increase  the  misery  of  the  lost  in  the  place  of  perdition. 

The  story  itself  consists  of  a  series  of  contrasts,  with 
a  practical  application  from  them. 

The  first  contrast  shows  us  a  rich  man  in  a  home  of 
luxury  and  selfishness,  expending  every  thing  on  his 
own  enjoyment,  so  that  what  in  other  men's  experience 
was  an  exceptional  thing  was  the  commonplace  of  his 
life,  for  "  he  was  clothed  in  purple  and  fine  linen,  and 
fared  sumptuously  every  day  ;  "  while  over  against  him 
we  have  a  miserabl}'  poor  man,  laid  at  his  gate,  wasted 
with  want,  and  so  helpless  with  disease  that  he  could  do 
nothing  for  himself,  —  could  not  even  drive  away  from 


390  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUE   SAVIOUli. 

him  the  dogs  who  licked  his  sores.  At  the  very  gate 
of  abundance,  he  "  desired  "  to  be  fed  with  the  crumbs 
which  fell  from  the  table  of  the  rich  man ;  but  it  is  not 
said  that  he  received  any,  and  we  may  therefore,  per- 
haps, conclude  that  he  was  systematically  neglected  by 
the  occupant  of  the  palace.  Now,  that  one  case  is  given 
as  representing  the  habit  of  this  wealthy  man's  life.  It 
was  a  typical  instance  of  his  thoughtless  indifference 
to  the  claims  of  others  on  him.  Other  opportunities 
brought  before  him  were  all  ignored  by  him  in  the  same 
way.  It  was  his  custom  to  "  pass  by  "  want  and  suffer- 
ing "•  on  the  other  side."  Not  simply  therefore  for  his 
neglect  in  this  particular  case,  but  for  the  character  of 
which  that  was  an  indication,  and  which  was  thoroughly 
selfish,  because  he  had  no  sense  of  his  stewardship  to 
God,  is  he  here  held  up  to  condemnation. 

The  second  contrast  is  in  the  matter  of  their  death 
and  burial.  One  event,  namely  death,  comes  alike  to 
all;  and  both  of  these  men  died.  But  no  notice  is 
taken  of  the  beggar's  burial.  He  was  hurried  away,  it 
may  be,  roughly  and  uiifeeliugly,  by  the  city  officials,  to 
the  "  potter's  field  "  of  the  time,  in  some  such  spirit  as 
that  indicated  in  the  words  of  the  song,  — 

"  Rattle  his  bones 
Over  the  stones, 
He's  but  a  pauper 
Whom  nobody  owns." 

But  the  rich  man  had  a  funeral,  ostentatious  probably, 
and  expensive,  like  that  described  by  Southey  with 
such  withering  scorn ;  and  his  body  may  have  been 
laid  in  a  tomb  massive  as  a  temple,  and  more  costly 
than  many  a  palace. 

But   now   conies   the    third   contrast.     The    Saviour 


THE  men  MAN  AND  LAZARUS.  391 

follows  the  spirits  of  both  to  Hades,  the  state  of  the 
disembodied,  or,  as  the  word  itself  properly  means,  the 
state  of  the  unseen ;  but  here  we  cease  to  deal  with 
literal  history,  and  enter  into  the  section  where  diffi- 
culty especially  emerges.  We  cannot  speak  of  the 
spiritual  except  in  words  which  have  already  acquii'ed 
certain  significance  in  the  material;  and  every  one 
knows  that  in  seeking  to  instruct  others  we  must  con- 
form to  the  modes  of  thought  to  which  they  have  been 
accustomed.  Now,  the  conception  of  the  disembodied 
state  entertained  by  the  Jews  of  the  Saviour's  daj^  was 
that  of  a  place  divided  into  two  portions,  one  for  the 
spirits  of  the  just,  and  one  for  the  spirits  of  the  unjust. 
The  former  was  often  spoken  of  among  them  as  Abra- 
ham's bosom ;  and  the  latter  was  regarded  by  them  as 
a  place  of  torment  different  from,  yet  kindred  to,  that 
Gehenna  of  fire  which  was  viewed  by  them  as  the  final 
abode  of  the  lost.  Now,  the  purpose  of  the  Saviour  in 
this  parable  was  to  illustrate  the  truth  that  this  rich 
man,  having  proved  unfaithful  to  his  trust  in  the  use 
of  his  money,  had  no  friend  to  receive  liim  after  death 
into  the  everlasting  habitations  of  lieaven ;  and  he  very 
naturally  ran  his  illustration  into  the  mould  of  the  con- 
ception of  Hades  which  was  current  among  the  people 
at  the  time.  It  would  not  have  been  intelligible  to 
them  otherwise ;  but  just  because  of  this,  we  now  are 
apt  to  misunderstand  its  meaning.  The  beggar  is  car- 
ried—  not  in  body,  of  course,  but  in  spirit — by  the 
angels  to  Abraham's  bosom ;  and  the  rich  man  finds 
himself  in  the  place  of  torment.  So  far  all  is  plain. 
But  when  it  is  said  that  "he  lifted  up  his  eyes,  and 
saw  Abraham  afar  off,  and  Lazarus  in  his  bosom,"  we 
see  at  once  that  the  literal  has  passed  into  tlie  figura- 
tive, that  the  place  has  given  place  to  him  after  whom 


392  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

it  was  named,  and  what  follows  is  simply  designed  to 
show  that  this  rich  man  had  made  no  friends  who  could 
stand  him  in  good  stead  in  his  extremity,  and  was  left 
unrelieved  to  bear  his  doom.  His  cry  to  Abraham,  and 
Abraham's  conversation  with  him,  do  not  warrant  us 
in  drawing  the  conclusion  that  the  saved  and  the  lost 
will  be  in  sight  of  each  other  in  the  disembodied  state, 
or  that  they  will  have  any  communication  of  any  sort 
with  each  other.  The  residuum  of  truth  which  re- 
mains to  us  out  of  this  part  of  the  parable  is,  that 
whereas  if  this  wealthy  man  had  been  a  faithful  steward 
of  God's  trust,  he  would  have  liad  in  Lazarus  and  all 
the  others  whom,  as  God's  servant,  he  had  assisted,  so 
many  friends  to  welcome  him,  he  found  himself,  because 
of  his  unfaithfulness,  left  to  hapless  torment.  He  let 
Lazarus  lie  uncared-for  outside  of  his  door  on  earth ; 
and  now  he  is  left  outside  of  heaven,  with  the  sad  re- 
flection that  no  one  either  can  or  will  relieve  his  misery, 
even  by  so  much  as  a  drop  of  water  would  cool  a  burn- 
ing tongue. 

The  moral  of  the  story  follows  in  the  conversation 
between  Abraham  and  the  once  rich  man.  The  latter 
asks  that  Lazarus  may  be  sent  to  relieve  him :  but  re- 
ceives for  answer,  first,  that  such  a  request  was  unrea- 
sonable, inasmuch  as  he  had  made  his  own  choice  of 
what  his  good  things  would  be  when  he  was  on  earth, 
and  now  he  must  abide  by  the  results  of  that  choice ; 
even  as  Lazarus,  who  from  his  name,  which  signifies 
"  God  is  my  help,"  must  be  understood  as  having  made 
God  his  portion,  was  now  enjoying  the  blessed  conse- 
quences of  that  wise  determination.  But,  second,  while 
it  was  thus  unreasonable  in  him  to  ask  that  Lazarus 
should  be  sent  to  his  relief,  it  was  impossible  for  Laz- 
arus to  go  even  if  he  wished ;  for  there  was  no  passing 


THE  RICH  MAN  AND  LAZARUS.  393 

to  and  fro  between  the  saved  and  the  lost.  No  one 
could  cross  the  gulf  which  God  had  fixed  between  the 
two.  Now,  of  course,  here  is  much  of  figure.  The 
flame  and  the  gulf  may  not  be  literal.  The  one  is  the 
symbol  of  a  spiritual  anguish  as  intense  to  the  soul  as 
the  pain  of  fire  i^  to  the  quivering  flesh ;  and  the  other 
is  the  material  emblem  of  that  Divine  decree  which  shall 
forever  separate  the  saved  from  the  unsaved.  The  letter 
is  figure.  But  the  unreasonableness  of  the  request  of 
the  lost  man,  and  the  impossibility  of  complying  with 
it  on  the  part  of  the  saved,  —  these  are  the  spirit 
in  the  letter,  and  these  are  real,  so  that  if  we  reject  them 
the  whole  parable  becomes  unmeaning. 

Again,  when  we  learn  that  this  rich  man  proceeds  to 
plead  for  his  five  brothers,  we  almost  begin  to  feel  that 
his  punishment  has  tended  to  soften  his  spirit,  and  to 
make  him  thoughtful  for  others ;  but  when  we  read  on, 
we  discover  that  his  design  is  rather  to  vindicate  him- 
self than  to  save  them.  It  was  as  much  as  to  say,  "  If 
I  had  been  properly  warned  I  never  would  have  been 
here."  But  Abraham's  answer  was  sufficient  to  silence 
all  such  God-upbraiding»words :  "  They  have  Moses  and 
the  prophets :  let  them  hear  them."  "  If  you  had  obeyed 
Moses  in  your  life,  and  sought  to  carry  out  all  his  pre- 
cepts, you  would  have  been  witli  me ;  and  though  you 
think  that  '  if  one  went  unto  them  from  the  dead,  they 
would  repent,'  you  are  entirely  at  fault  ,•  for  those  who 
repudiate  Moses  will  always  find  some  plausible  reason 
for  rejecting  the  testimony  even  of  one  who  rises  from 
the  dead."  Here  again,  3'ou  see,  the  form,  which  is  that 
of  a  dialogue  between  Abraham  and  the  rich  man,  is 
figurative ;  but  the  substance,  which  is  that  every  man 
has  sufficient  light  for  the  discharge  of  the  duties  which 
God  requires  at  his  hand,  is  reality,  —  true  for  the  Jew, 


394  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

true  for  the  heathen,  and  true  for  the  Christian,  in 
every  age,  and  for  all  time. 

Such  is  our  analysis  of  tliis  story ;  and  if  it  be  cor- 
rect, you  will  see  at  once  that  this  is  not  an  allegory 
in  which  the  rich  man  represents  one  spiritual  class, 
and  the  beggar  another,  as,  in  the  parable  of  the  sower, 
the  different  kinds  of  ground  stand  for  different  sorts 
of  gospel  hearers.  Rather  it  is  simply  an  illustrative 
story  told  to  give  emphasis  to  the  importance  of  mak- 
ing to  ourselves  friends  out  of  the  mammon  of  unright- 
eousness, that  when  it  fails  they  may  receive  us  into 
everlasting  habitations.  We  have  had  similar  instances 
in  the  parables  of  the  friend  at  midnight,  the  good 
Samaritan,  and  the  unjust  steward;  and  when  we  view 
it  in  this  way,  as  illustrative  and  not  symbolical,  it  be- 
comes amazingly  clear  and  suggestive. 

Moreover,  if  our  analysis  of  the  story  be  correct,  we 
can  have  no  difficulty  in  separating  the  merely  figur- 
ative and  dramatic  from  the  truths  of  permanent  im- 
portance which  it  was  intended  to  teach.  Thus,  Avith 
the  key  which  I  have  given  you  for  the  unlocking  of 
its  meaning,  you  will  be  in  no  danger  of  falling  into  the 
mistake  of  supposing  that  it  lends  any  countenance  to 
the  ideas  that  the  rich  man  will  be  condemned  simply 
on  account  of  his  riches,  and  that  the  poor  man  will  be 
saved  simj^ly  because  of  his  poverty.  It  is  not  the  hav- 
ing of  riches  that  is  here  condemned,  but  the  neglect 
to  use  them  for  God  and  in  his  service.  And  poverty, 
in  and  of  itself,  is  not  a  virtue.  There  is  as  much  in- 
iquity among  the  poor  as  among  the  rich.  Not  what  a 
man  has,  but  what  a  man  is,  counts  before  God,  Riches 
test  character  in  one  way,  poverty  tests  it  in  another ; 
and  the  character  that  stands  the  test  in  either  condi- 
tion will  be  approved.     If  the  rich  man   esteems  the 


THE  RICH  MAN  AND  LAZARUS.  395 

favor  of  God  above  all  wealth,  and  uses  his  money  as 
God  requires,  he  will  be  accepted  ;  if  the  poor  man, 
hardened  by  his  poverty,  turns  away  from  God,  and  be- 
comes a  regardless,  scoffing,  impious  man,  he  will  be 
rejected.  Our  relation  to  God  in  Christ  is  the  deciding 
element.  If  we  keep  that  close,  despite  the  tempta- 
tions that  come  from  the  deceitfulness  of  riches,  we 
shall  be  eternally  with  God,  no  matter  though  on  earth 
we  may  have  been  immensely  wealthy;  but  if  we  re- 
pudiate that  relation,  and  live  in  defiance  of  God,  we 
shall  be  forever  with  the  lost,  no  matter  though  here 
we  may  have  been  the  poorest  of  the  poor. 

But  now,  leaving  these  expository  details,  let  me,  in 
the  liglit  of  the  results  at  which  we  have  arrived,  gather 
up  the  lessons  of  the  parable,  under  these  three  heads : 
the  sin,  the  inexcusableness,  and  the  punishment  of  this 
rich  man. 

I.  Let  us  inquire,  then,  first,  wherein  consisted  the  sin 
of  this  rich  man.  It  is  frequently  asserted,  that  we  have 
here  an  arbitrary  condemnation  of  one  whose  sole  fault 
was  that  he  was  wealthy ;  but  those  who  speak  thus 
only  reveal  that  they  have  failed  to  see  the  great  truth 
which  here  the  Redeemer  purposed  to  illustrate.  No 
doubt  the  rich  man  was  not  positively  vicious.  He  is 
not  charged  with  drunkenness  or  adultery  or  open  im- 
morality. He  did  not  put  his  riches,  so  far  as  ap[)ears, 
to  an  injurious  use.  All  that  is  implied  is,  that  he 
failed  to  employ  them  as  God's  trustee,  for  the  benefit 
of  his  fellow-men,  and  for  the  glory  of  Him  to  whom, 
of  right,  they  belonged.  He  kept  them  to  himself,  and 
spent  them  simply  and  only  on  his  own  enjoyment.  He 
was  himself  the  centre  of  all  his  efforts;  and  that  which 
was  another's,  intrusted  to  him  for  a  special  purpose, 


396  THE  PABABLES   OF  OUR    SAVIOUR. 

he  regarded  as  Lis  own,  and  used  as  such.  The  beggar 
that  sat  neglected  at  his  gate  is  the  little  feature  which 
indicates  his  great  unfaithfulness.  He  did  no  more  for 
the  outlying  world  than  he  did  for  the  poor  diseased 
Lazarus.  He  was  like  the  wicked  servant  in  the  other 
parable,  who  kept  his  talent  to  himself ;  with  this  differ- 
ence, that  instead  of  hiding  it  in  a  napkin,  and  burying 
it  in  the  earth,  he  spent  it  on  his  own  table  and  attire. 
He  was  like  the  lady  of  whom  Thomas  Hood  has  sung, 
who  was  surrounded  by  all  the  comforts  of  affluence, 
and  had  in  her  hands  the  means  of  providing  for  the 
orphan,  and  making  glad  the  widow's  heart,  but  who 
never  thought  of  doing  such  beneficent  work  until 
when  in  her  dream,  confronted  with  death  and  behold- 
ing the  many  sufferers  in  this  world  of  woe,  she  solilo- 
quized thus,  — 

"  For  the  blind  and  the  cripple  were  there, 
And  the  babe  that  pined  for  bread ; 

And  the  homeless  man,  and  the  widow  poor 
Who  begged  to  bury  her  dead,  — 

The  naked,  alas  !  that  I  might  have  clad, 
The  famished  I  might  have  fed. 

"  Each  pleading  look,  that  long  ago 

I  scanned  with  a  heedless  eye, 
Each  face  was  gazing  as  plainly  there 

As  when  I  passed  it  by. 
Woe,  woe,  for  me  if  the  past  should  be 

Thus  present  when  I  die ! 

"  The  wounds  I  might  have  healed, 
The  human  sorrow  and  smart, — 
And  yet  it  never  was  in  my  soul 

To  play  so  ill  a  part. 
But  evil  is  wrought  by  want  of  thought. 
As  well  as  want  of  heart." 


THE  RICH  MAN  AND  LAZARUS.  397 

He  was  a  t3'pe  of  those  to  whom  it  shall  be  said  at 
last,  "  Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  not  to  one  of  the  least 
of  these,  ye  did  it  not  to  me."  And  the  lesson  of  his 
history,  as  here  recorded,  is  that  to  live  for  one's  self 
alone  is  to  lose  one's  self.  Wondrous  paradox,  yet 
sober  truth  !  The  most  enlightened  self-interest  is  that 
which  crucifies  self.  "  He  that  loveth  his  life  shall  lose 
it ;  but  he  that  willeth  to  lose  it  for  Christ's  sake,  shall 
keep  it  unto  life  eternal." 

II.  But  now  let  us  look  at  the  inexcusableness  of 
this  rich  man.  When  he  wished  that  Lazarus  should 
be  sent  to  his  five  brothers,  to  warn  them  lest  they 
also  should  come  to  the  place  of  torment,  there  was  an 
implied  assertion  that  if  he  had  known,  he  would  not 
have  lived  as  he  had  done.  It  was  as  if  he  wished  to 
cast  the  blame  on  God ;  but  when  Abraham  said,  "  They 
have  Moses  and  the  prophets ;  let  them  hear  them ; " 
and  again,  "  If  they  believe  not  Moses  and  the  prophets, 
neither  will  they  be  persuaded  though  one  rose  from 
the  dead,"  —  he  furnished  a  satisfactory  reply.  God 
gives  every  man  enough  light  for  the  performance  of 
the  duties  which  he  requires  at  his  hand.  He  "  doth 
not  exact  day-labor,  light  denied ; "  and  no  one  will  be 
condemned  at  last  for  not  doing  that  which  he  never 
could  have  known  he  was  to  do.  Responsibility  is  for 
each  man  proportioned  to  his  opportunity.  If  one  does 
not  perform  that  which  the  little  light  he  had  might 
have  made  clear  to  him,  the  reason  for  his  neglect  is 
not  the  want  of  light,  but  the  want  of  will;  and  that, 
no  amount  of  extra  light  would  have  removed.  Here, 
again,  it  is  true  that  "  he  that  is  faithful  in  that  which 
is  least  is  faithful  also  in  much,  and  he  that  is  unjust 
in  the  least  is  unjust  also  in  much."     This  man  had  the 


398  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

writings  of  Moses  and  the  prophets  in  his  hands.  Very 
probably  he  was  a  regular  worshipper  in  the  synagogue, 
and  heard  them  statedly  read  there.  In  any  case  he 
had  the  means  of  becoming  acquainted  with  them,  if 
he  had  chosen  to  avail  himself  of  them.  And  though 
they  contained  little  about  the  future  life,  they  said  as 
much  regarding  it  as,  if  it  had  referred  to  his  worldly 
business,  would  have  made  liim  take  precautionary 
measures.  Moreover,  though  they  said  little  compara- 
tively about  the  future  state,  they  were  exceedingly 
full  and  clear  about  the  duties  which,  as  laid  upon  them 
by  God,  the  rich  owed  to  the  poor  in  the  present  life. 
There  was  in  them  the  clearest  light  in  that  department 
of  morality,  and  to  that  light  he  had  closed  his  eyes ; 
therefore  he  was  righteously  condemned.  He  knew 
what  God  required ;  he  knew  also  that  he  was  respon- 
sible to  God  for  the  doing  of  that ;  and  nothing  more 
was  needed,  if  he  had  chosen,  to  set  him  on  its  diligent 
performance :  therefore  he  was  without  excuse. 

But  if  this  was  the  case  with  him,  who  had  only  the 
Jewish  scriptures,  how  much  more  will  it  be  so  with 
us,  if,  having  the  complete  revelation  of  the  new  cov- 
enant, we  should  still  thoughtlessly  live  to  ourselves, 
and  disregard  alike  our  responsibility  to  God,  and  our 
duties  to  our  fellow-men !  For  to  us  now.  One  has 
come  even  from  the  dead,  and  sealed,  as  indubitably 
true,  all  the  statements  which  his  gospel  contains.  Nay, 
more :  by  his  own  pure,  divine,  unselfish  life,  during 
which  "  he  went  about  doing  good,"  —  healing  the  sick, 
cleansing  the  lejDcrs,  feeding  the  hungrj^  instructing 
the  ignorant,  shedding  joy  and  happiness  everywhere 
around  him,  even  while  he  was  bearing  the  sins  of  the 
world,  —  until  at  length,  in  solemn  self-sacrifice,  he 
offered  himself  to  the  death  of  the  cross,  he  has  left 


THE  RICH  MAN  AND  LAZARUS.  399 

US  an  example,  that  we  should  follow  his  steps.  Shall 
it  be,  then,  that  with  such  a  pattern  before  us  we  shall 
seek  to  live  for  ourselves,  and  lose  our  entrance  into 
the  everlasting  habitations,  for  the  poor,  paltry  ambi- 
tion to  amass  a  fortune  which  we  must  leave  behind 
us,  or  to  make  a  position  which  we  must  give  up  at  last, 
or  to  enjoy  the  amusements  and  })leasures  and  luxuries 
of  the  world,  which  perish  in  the  using  ?  There  is  no 
fortune  so  noble  as  that  which  is  made  in  doing  good ; 
no  position  so  exalted  as  that  which  is  reached  by  him 
who  belongs  to  the  peerage  of  benevolence ;  no  pleas- 
ure so  pure  as  that  which  is  enjoyed  by  him  who,  imbib- 
ing the  spirit  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  seeks  to  mitigate  the 
miseries  of  his  fellow-men,  and  finds  his  life-work  in 
the  lessening  of  human  suffering  and  the  salvation  of 
immortal  souls.  Up,  then,  and  give  yourselves  to  this 
Christ-like  labor.  Live  every  day  for  God,  in  the  ser- 
vice of  his  people,  and  the  promotion  of  his  cause.  So 
shall  you  escape  the  corrupting  and  down-dragging 
influences  of  the  world,  and  find  your  place  at  last  by 
the  side  of  your  Redeemer.  But  if  with  such  a  clear 
revelation  before  you,  and  such  a  glorious  ensample 
above  you,  all  your  thought  is  still  about  yourselves, 
then  your  guilt  is  deeper  than  that  of  Dives,  and  your 
doom  will  be  heavier  than  that  which  fell  on  him. 

III.  But  now,  finally,  let  us  glance  solemnly  at  the 
rich  man's  punishment.  Now,  here,  as  I  have  said,  we 
must  beware  of  supposing  that  in  the  future  life  things 
will  be  literally  as  they  are  here  described.  I  do  not 
believe  that  it  is  possible,  in  our  present  speech,  to  por- 
tray exactly  what  the  future  state  will  be ;  and  most 
certainly  our  Lord  does  not  here  make  the  attempt  to 
do  any  thing  of  that  kind.     What  he  has  done  is,  under 


400  THE  P ARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

tlie  guise  of  this  story,  to  convey  to  us  truthful  impres- 
sions, though  the  mode  in  which  lie  has  clone  that  may 
be  —  nay,  from  the  very  nature  of  the  case,  must  be  — 
figurative.  But,  stripping  away  all  mere  figure  and 
embellishment,  two  things  about  this  man's  doom  seem 
to  me  to  be  positively  certain.  These  are,  the  intensity 
of  its  agony,  and  the  eternity  of  its  duration.  This  is 
an  awful  subject,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  dwell  upon  its 
dread  details :  nevertheless,  the  truest,  tenderest  kind- 
ness is  to  set  the  meaning  of  this  parable,  in  this  regard, 
fairly  and  fully  before  you.  The  anguish  of  this  man 
is  implied  in  his  use  of  the  word  "flame."  Now,  as  he 
was  then  in  the  state  of  disembodied  spirits,  we  cannot 
understand  that  he  was  in  material  fire.  But  it  is  a 
mistake  to  suppose  that  by  taking  this  figuratively  we 
thereby  deprive  it  of  its  terror.  No  !  to  a  rightly  con- 
stituted mind,  we  only  increase  that  thereby ;  for  the 
figure  is  always  less  than  the  reality,  and  in  the  union 
of  memory  perfectly  unsealed,  with  conscience  fully 
awakened,  we  have  all  that  is  needed  to  produce  in 
the  soul  such  distress  as  is  here  figuratively  described. 
But  there  is  further  revealed  here,  the  eternity  of 
the  duration  of  this  punishment.  I  cannot  see  how 
else  the  fixity  of  that  gulf  is  to  be  understood.  It  is 
as  true  that  no  change  of  place  is  possible  to  those 
who  are  here  described,  as  it  is  that  if  Moses  and  the 
prophets  be  not  heard,  the  mission  of  one  from  the 
dead  will  be  in  vain.  For  both  of  these  announce- 
ments stand  on  the  same  plane.  I  know  that  it  is 
said  that  this  is  in  Hades,  —  the  state  of  disembodied 
spirits,  —  intervening  between  this  life  and  the  general 
resurrection  and  judgment.  Be  it  so.  I  accept  the  rep- 
resentation. But  that  completely  explodes  the  modern 
notion  of  Dorner  and  others,  that  probation  continues 


TUE  lilClI  MAN  AND  LAZARUS.  401 

through  that  state,  and  is  only  terminated  at  the  resur- 
rection and  the  final  judgment.  For,  how  can  there  be 
probation,  with  this  impossibility  of  passing  from  one 
place  to  the  other  ?  There  is  here  no  possible  probation 
in  the  intermediate  state ;  and  there  is  not  a  single 
word  in  all  the  Scriptures  which  indicates  that  there 
will  be  probation  after  the  judgment,  —  not  one.  That 
ought  to  be  enough,  and  with  that  T  leave  the  sub- 
ject to  stand  before  you  in  its  own  dread  and  awful 
solemnity. 

But  I  cannot  conclude  my  discourse  without  remind- 
ing you,  that  if  you  live  faitlifully  and  lovingly  for 
God  in  Jesus  Christ,  then,  no  matter  how  lowly  your 
lot  may  have  been  upon  the  earth,  you  shall  have 
everlasting  blessedness  and  glory  in  heaven.  Lazarus 
was  not  saved  because  he  was  poor,  any  more  than 
the  rich  man  was  condemned  because  he  was  wealthy. 
But  in  his  mean  and  pitiful  estate  he  had  served  his 
God,  finding  his  help  in  Jehovah ;  and  lo !  at  death 
he  is  carried  by  angels  to  Abraham's  bosom.  Courage, 
then,  ye  humble  ones.  God  will  not  forget  )^our  work 
of  faith  and  labor  of  love.  No  matter  what  be  your 
lot  here,  if  you  can  say  with  Paul,  "  For  me  to  live  is 
Christ,"  you  will  be  with  Christ  at  last.  And  He  who 
did  not  spurn  the  meanest  of  the  people  from  him  on 
earth,  will  himself  receive  you  into  the  fellowship  of  his 
glory. 


402  TRE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 


XXVI. 

THE  PLOUGHING  SERF  ANT. 

(Liike  xvii.  7-10.) 

This  parable  has  not  received  from  Christians  gen- 
erally the  measure  of  attention  to  which  it  is  entitled. 
Few  of  us  are  conscious  of  having  derived  spiritual  in- 
spiration from  the  study  of  it ;  and  in  some  of  the  best 
expository  works  on  the  parables  of  our  Lord,  as,  for 
example,  in  the  recent  valuable  one  of  Goebel,  it  is 
entirely  omitted.  This  neglect  may  be  owing,  in  some 
degree,  to  the  superior  attractiveness  of  many  of  the 
Saviour's  other  allegories,  the  lessons  from  which  are 
more  palatable  to  most  of  us  than  those  which  are  here 
enforced ;  but  it  is  due  perhaps,  most  of  all,  to  the  diffi- 
culty which  has  been  universally  felt  in  its  interpreta- 
tion. Still,  the  view  which,  under  any  feasible  exposi- 
tion, it  gives  of  the  exactions  of  the  Christian  life,  and 
the  spirit  in  which  these  are  to  be  met  by  us,  is  so  im- 
portant, that,  no  matter  what  our  success  may  be  in  its 
explanation,  we  may  profitably  spend  a  little  time  in 
its  examination. 

Whether  the  context  furnishes  any  key  to  the  solu- 
tion of  its  meaning,  is  a  question  on  which  the  most 
opposite  opinions  have  been  maintained.  On  the  one 
hand,  it  has  been  held  by  some,  that,  as  the  sayings 
which  precede  it  have  been  introduced  in  other  connec- 
tions by  Matthew  and  Mark,  they  are  liere  grouped  to- 


THE   PLOUGHING   SERVANT.  403 

gether  by  Luke  on  no  other  ininciple  tliau  that  he  wished 
to  preserve  them,  and  might  as  well  bring  them  in  at  this 
point  as  at  any  other ;  and  even  such  a  writer  as  Godet, 
who  is  in  this  instance  followed  by  Bruce,  calls  them,  as 
I  think,  somewhat  irreverently,  "a  remnant  scrap  at  the 
bottom  of  the  portfolio,"  which  the  Evangelist  has  here 
delivered  to  us  without  any  introduction.  Others,  how- 
ever, with  much  greater  probability  have  alleged,  that, 
although  used  by  our  Lord  on  other  occasions,  these  ut- 
terances form  one  discourse  here.  Now,  as  there  are 
some  undeniable  instances  in  which  the  Saviour  re- 
peated, under  new  circumstances,  sentiments  which  he 
had  already  expressed  in  other  relations,  I  have  no  hesi- 
tation in  believing  that  here  we  have  a  new  and  distinct 
address,  though  the  separate  portions  of  which  it  is 
composed  had  been  before  employed  by  him  at  differ- 
ent times  and  for  other  purposes.  This  view  is  con- 
firmed by  the  fact  that  we  can  easily  trace  at  least 
some  links  of  association  between  its  several  parts. 
Thus  the  opening  verses  deal  with  the  causing  of  others 
to  stumble,  and  these  are  followed  by  precepts  as  to 
how  his  disciples  should  act  towards  those  who  should 
trespass  against  them.  Now,  we  can  easily  see  that  we 
have  in  these  two  sections  both  sides  of  the  same  sub- 
ject presented ;  for  the  one  relates  to  the  giving,  and 
the  other  to  the  taking,  of  offence.  The  injunction  to 
forgive  a  penitent  brother,  even  if  he  should  trespass 
against  them  seven  limes  in  a  day,  evoked  from  the  dis- 
ciples the  prayer,  "Lord,  increase  our  faith,"  because 
they  felt  that  only  through  the  possession  of  a  larger 
measure  of  that  grace,  could  they  attain  to  the  obedience 
of  such  a  command.  Their  prayer,  again,  led  to  the 
answer,  "  If  ye  had  faith  as  a  grain  of  mustard-seod, 
ye  might  say  unto  this  sycamore-tree.  Be  thou  plucked 


404  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUE   SAVIOUR. 

up  by  the  root,  and  be  tliou  planted  in  the  sea ;  and 
it  should  obey  you."  Then,  lest  they  should  be  puffed 
up  with  pride  at  the  very  idea  of  their  accomplishing 
such  great  things,  he  goes  on  in  this  parable  to  impress 
upon  them  the  arduous  and  unceasing  nature  of  the 
service  which  was  required  of  them  as  his  disciples, 
and  the  spirit  and  temper  in  which  that  should  be  ren- 
dered. 

This  being  the  main  purpose  of  the  parable,  the  illus- 
tration is  taken  from  the  state  of  things  then  actually 
existing  upon  the  earth.  The  relation  between  master 
and  servant  was  not  one  of  contract,  but  of  ownership. 
The  slave  was  not  hired  to  do  just  so  much  and  no  more ; 
but  he  actually  belonged  to  his  master,  who  had  an 
absolute  right  to  all  his  time  and  all  liis  exertions.  But 
the  Lord,  in  using  this  relation  for  the  purpose  of  mak- 
ing plain  the  point  which  he  desired  to  enforce,  says 
nothing  whatever  of  its  propriety  or  lawfulness.  That 
was  not  the  matter  which  was  then  before  him  ;  but 
taking  it  just  as  it  was,  without  pausing  to  discuss  the 
question  of  the  rightfulness  of  slavery,  he  employs  it  to 
impress  upon  the  minds  of  his  hearers  the  truth  which 
he  wished  particularly  to  emphasize.  Such  a  bond- 
servant, then,  who  belonged  to  his  master,  is  described 
as  having  just  returned  from  out-door  labor  in  the  field, 
where  he  had  been  following  the  plough,  or  keeping  the 
sheep;  and  the  question  is  asked,  whether  his  master 
would  say  to  him,  "  Come  at  once,  and  sit  down  to 
meat,"  or  whether  he  would  not  rather  address  him 
after  this  fashion:  "  Make  ready  wherewith  /may  sup, 
and  gird  thyself,  and  serve  me  till  /  have  eaten  and 
drunken,  and  afterward  thou  shalt  eat  and  drink." 
Then  the  further  question  is  raised,  "  Doth  the  master 
thank  the  servant  because  he  did  the  thins'S  that  were 


THE   PLOUGHING   SERVANT.  405 

commanded  ?  "  and  in  some  manuscn[)ts  tlic  answer,  "  I 
trow  not,"  is  inserted ;  but  whether  we  follow  the  Author- 
ized Version  in  retaining  these  words,  or  the  Revised 
Version  in  rejecting  them,  it  is  equally  clear  that  a 
negative  answer  is  expected,  and  is  the  true  one  ;  so 
that  the  moral  follows,  as  an  inference  from  the  whole  : 
"  Even  so  ye  also,  when  ye  shall  have  done  all  the  things 
that  are  commanded  you,  say.  We  are  unprofitable  ser- 
vants :  we  have  done  that  which  it  was  our  duty  to  do." 
Now,  it  is  undeniable  that  we  have  in  this  parable 
much  that  is  startling,  and  apparently  inconsistent  with 
the  Saviour's  teaching  :  for  example,  the  haughty  bear- 
ing of  the  master  toward  his  tired  slave,  and  the  un- 
appreciative  spirit  in  which  he  receives  the  services 
rendered  to  him,  are  not  at  all  in  keeping  with  the 
representations  elsewhere  made  of  the  kindness  shown 
by  God  to  those  who  sincerely  and  lovingly  seek  to  do 
his  will.  Accordingly,  I  am  not  surprised  that  many 
commentators  have  shrunk  from  any  interpretation 
which  would  even  seem  to  admit  that  this  master  is  in 
any  sense  the  representative  of  God.  To  escape  from 
that,  therefore,  some  have  maintained  that  we  have 
here  simply  an  exposure  of  the  spirit  of  legalism ;  that, 
as  one  has  said,^  "  Christ  descends  to  the  moral  plane 
of  his  auditors,  and  seeks  to  convict  them,  not  by  prov- 
ing their  principles  to  })e  wrong,  but  by  apparently 
accepting  and  using  them.  He  addresses  himself  to  the 
Pharisees,  or  to  the  spirit  of  Pliariseeism  in  his  own  dis- 
ciples, of  which  the  essence  was,  and  is  ever,  a  claim  to 
be  received  and  rewarded  by  God  for  Avork's  sake.  And 
he  says  in  effect  something  like  this:  'You  claim  to  be 
the  servant  of  God  ?  ' —  '  Yes.'  — '  A  faithful  servant  ?  ' 
—  'Yes.'  —  'On  that  ground  entitled  to  a  seat  at  the 

1  Abbott,  ill  loco. 


406  THE  P ARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

table  of  the  King? ' — '  Yes.'  — '  Do  you  treat  your  ser- 
vants thus?  When  they  come  in  from  the  field,  do 
you  make  haste  to  welcome  them  ?  to  serve  them  ?  or 
to  thank  them  ?  I  trow  not.  But  if  you  are  a  ser- 
vant, you  must  be  content  with  a  servant's  recompense.'' 
And  so  the  moral  of  the  parable,  in  this  view  of  it,  is 
not  that  the  Christian  is  to  say,  '  We  are  unprofitable 
servants,'  but  rather  that  he  is  not  a  servant  at  all,  but 
a  son,  and  is  to  serve  for  love's  sake,  and  not  for  re- 
ward." Now,  all  this  is  a  true  description  of  the  case 
as  between  the  Christian  and  his  God,  and  we  may  our- 
selves come  out  to  a  result  not  very  different  in  the 
end  ;  but  it  does  seem  to  me,  that  in  making  the  infer- 
ence from  the  whole  parable  that  the  Christian  is  not 
a  servant,  but  a  son,  such  a  view  of  the  teaching  takes 
all  the  force  out  of  the  words,  "  Even  so  ye  also,  when 
ye  shall  have  done  all  the  things  which  are  commanded 
you,  say,  We  are  unprofitable  servants."  Besides, 
while  the  Christian  is  a  son,  it  is  not  to  be  forgotten 
that  he  is  also,  in  a  very  important  sense,  a  servant. 
Repeatedly  in  the  parables  of  our  Lord,  he  is  repre- 
sented by  a  laborer  and  a  servant ;  and  Paul  in  all  his 
epistles  styles  himself  "the  bond-servant  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ :  "  so  that  there  must  be  some  apj)ropriate- 
ness  in  bringing  that  side  of  the  truth  into  view.  We 
are  not  prepared,  therefore,  to  accept  this  interpretation. 
Others  have  supposed  that  the  parable,  instead  of 
setting  forth  how  God  actually  deals  with  any  one  indi- 
vidual, describes  how  he  might  have  dealt  with  all  men. 
But  neither  can  we  rest  in  that  theory  of  the  case ;  for 
Christ  is  dealing  with  actualities,  and  guarding  his  hear- 
ers specially  against  a  spirit  of  pride  and  self-congratula- 
tion, and  the  one  tiling  on  which  he  wishes  to  con- 
centrate our  attention  is  not  the  spirit  in  which  God 


THE   PLOUGHING   SERVANT.  407 

deals  with  his  servants,  but  rather  the  spirit  in  which 
we  should  serve  God,  —  not  wliat  God  thinks  of  our 
work,  but  rather  how  we  should  regard  it  ourselves. 
The  Cliristian  belongs  to  God.  He  is  bought  with  a 
price.  Whatever  doubt  there  may  be  about  the  legality 
of  any  one  man's  title  to  property  in  his  fellow-man,  — 
and  to  me  there  is  no  question  of  its  absolute  injustice, 
—  there  can  be  none  about  God's  title  to  all  that  the 
Christian  is  and  has,  and  can  do.  He  is  the  "  possession 
of  God's  purchase."  Nay,  he  himself  admits  that  he  is 
"  not  his  own  ; "  he  has  not  ou\y  been  "  bought  with  a 
price "  by  God,  but  he  has  by  his  own  voluntary  act 
consecrated  himself  to  God.  Therefore  God  has  a  rig-ht 
to  all  the  service  he  can  render.  And,  when  he  has  ren- 
dered it  all,  he  may  not  indulge  in  self-complacency  as 
if  he  had  done  any  thing  extraordinary,  or  had  deserved 
any  special  commendation  ;  for  even  at  the  best  he  has 
done  no  more  than  he  ought  to  have  done,  since  soul, 
body,  and  spirit,  in  all  places  and  in  all  cases,  every- 
where and  at  all  times,  he  is  the  property  of  God. 

This,  in  my  judgment,  is  the  simple  significance  of 
the  parable.  It  tells  the  Christian  how  he  is  to  think 
of  himself,  but  it  says  nothing  of  what  his  Lord  thinks 
of  him.  The  portion  of  the  story  which  tells  of  the 
gruffness  and  thanklessness  of  the  master  belongs  to 
what  I  may  call  "■  the  blind  side  "  of  the  parable.  It 
belongs  to  what  may  be  styled  the  drapery  of  the  par- 
able, and  is  not  to  be  pressed  into  significance.  The 
story  has  no  typical  meaning  Godward.  Its  entire 
teaching  is  on  the  human  side.  It  looks  earthward,  not 
heavenward.  It  draws  an  inference  for  the  servants, 
but  it  says  nothing  of  the  Lord.  And  though  the  ser- 
vants are  to  regard  their  work  and  themselves  with 
humility,  as  unprofitable,  that  does  not  imply  that  God 


408  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR    SAVIOUR. 

will  not  give  them  both  commendation  and  reward. 
This  is  onl}''  one  side  of  the  matter,  —  the  side  which  is 
true  to  our  experience  in  this  world,  and  which  gives  us 
the  advice  that  is  appropriate  thereto. 

But  there  is  another  side  to  the  case,  the  heavenly ; 
and  in  order  to  complete  the  presentation  of  the  subject 
we  must  take  that  in  also.  It  is  set  before  us  in  Luke 
xii.  35-37 :  "  Let  your  loins  be  girded  about,  and  your 
lights  burning ;  and  ye  yourselves  like  unto  men  that 
wait  for  their  lord,  when  he  will  return  from  the  wed- 
ding ;  that  when  he  cometh  and  knocketh,  they  may 
open  unto  him  immediately.  Blessed  are  those  servants 
whom  the  lord,  when  he  cometh,  shall  find  watching : 
verily  I  say  unto  you,  that  he  shall  gird  himself,  and 
make  them  to  sit  down  to  meat,  and  will  come  forth 
and  serve  them."  What  a  contradiction  !  do  you  say  ? 
Nay,  there  is  no  discrepancy :  for  the  parable  before 
us  shows  us  the  Christian  toiling  on  earth,  and  gives  us 
what  should  be  his  own  estimate  of  himself  and  of  his 
work ;  while  the  words  which  I  have  just  read  describe 
the  Christian's  welcome  into  heaven,  where  he  shall 
be  waited  upon  by  his  Lord,  in  token  of  gratitude  and 
affection. 

Having  thus,  as  I  trust,  made  the  meaning  of  our 
parable  perfectly  clear  to  you,  let  me  only  now  detain 
you  for  a  few  minutes,  while  I  seek  to  bring  out  some 
profitable,  hints  which  are  suggested  by  this  method  of 
interpretation. 

I.  There  is,  first  of  all,  the  continuous  obligation  of 
the  Christian  life.  This  servant  had  been  all  day  in 
the  field.  He  had  returned  weary  and  hungry,  needing 
rest  and  food ;  but  instead  of  being  permitted  to  sat- 
isfy his  wants,  and  lie  down  to  enjoy  repose,  he  must 


THE   PLOUGHING    SERVANT.  409 

forthwith  address  liiiiiselt'  to  another  sort  of  hibor.  He 
must  make  ready  his  master's  repast,  and  gird  liimself, 
and  wait  on  him  at  table  while  he  eats  and  drinks. 
Now,  arduous  as  this  lot  of  his  surely  was,  there  are 
aspects  of  the  Christian  life  in  which  it  appears  to  be 
no  less  exacting.  The  slave  could  not  say  with  truth 
that  his  work  was  ever  done.  He  had  to  keep  himself 
always  at  the  call  of  the  master,  by  night  as  well  as 
by  day ;  and  whensoever  that  call  might  come,  at  even- 
ing or  midnight,  at  cock-crowing  or  in  the  morning, 
he  had  to  rise,  and  do  what  was  commanded  him.  But 
it  is  the  same  with  the  Christian  and  his  Lord.  At  no 
moment  is  he  absolved  from  obligation  to  serve ;  and 
even  when  he  has  been,  exhausted  by  some  heavy  and 
protracted  labor,  he  is  still  under  obligation  as  heavy 
as  ever  to  live  the  Christian  life.  His  day  is  not  one 
merely  of  twelve  hours;  but  throughout  the  twenty- 
four  he  must  be  ready  for  any  emergency,  and  must 
meet  that  at  the  moment  when  it  rises.  Always  he  is 
under  obligation  to  his  Lord;  and  "without  haste,"  but 
also  "without  rest,"  he  must  hold  himself  absolutely 
at  the  disposal  of  his  Master.  When  the  physician,  on 
his  return  from  his  daily  round  of  visits,  with  mind 
exhausted  and  body  fatigued,  is  met  at  his  door  by 
an  urgent  sunnnons  to  the  bedside  of  one  who  has 
been  suddenly  stricken  by  severe  illness,  he  feels  him- 
self constrained  to  set  out  at  once,  and  give  what  help 
he  may  to  the  man  who  has  thus  called  him.  So  the 
Christian  is  to  be  always  at  the  call  of  his  Lord ;  and 
no  matter  though  the  command  may  come  at  the  most 
inconvenient  time,  he  is  to  be  willing  to  comply  with 
it.  This  is  the  exaction  of  his  calling.  He  belongs 
altogether  to  the  Lord  ;  and  when  He  needs  him,  every 
thinjr  else  must  be  set  aside  in  order  tliat  His  will  mav 


410  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

be  done.  It  seems  hard ;  and  yet  there  are  many  of 
us  who  must  admit  that  this  is  an  exact  description 
of  our  own  experience.  Our  hibor  is  never  done.  The 
workingman,  so  called,  sticks  out  for  his  ten,  or  per- 
haps eight,  hours  a  day;  and  when  these  ha^^e  been 
put  in,  the  rest  of  the  evening  and  the  night  are  his 
own ;  or,  if  he  is  required  to  give  any  portion  of  that 
reserved  season  up,  a  new  contract  is  entered  into,  and 
he  is  paid  so  much  for  "  overtime."  But  as  between 
the  Christian  and  his  Lord  there  is  no  "  overtime  ;  " 
for  all  his  time  he  is  his  Lord's,  and  he  never  can  allege 
that  any  portion  of  himself  or  of  his  day  is  absolutely 
his  own.  He  can  never  have  "a  day  off."  There  ai^e 
no  holidays  in  Christ's  service ;  and,  no  matter  how 
weary  we  may  be  in  it,  our  weariness  is  no  reason  why 
we  may  not  be  required  to  do  something  else.  Tliis 
applies  to  the  regular  work  of  the  Christian  life:  for, 
wherever  a  believer  is,  his  work  is  to  be  a  Christian ; 
to  manifest  the  graces  of  character  which  the  situation 
requires ;  to  do  the  precise  thing  which  the  case  de- 
mands ;  to  preserve,  in  the  midst  of  all  temptations, 
loyalty  to  his  Lord ;  to  act  in  every  thing  as  it  becom- 
eth  the  gospel  of  Christ,  —  in  one  expressive  phrase, 
"  whatsoever  he  does,  in  word  or  in  deed,  to  do  all  in 
the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  giving  thanks  to 
God  and  the  Father  by  him." 

Other  servants  may  have  some  respite.  The  very 
slave  is  almost  always  sure  of  his  sleep,  and  may  be  free 
in  his  dreams ;  the  soldier  is  "mustered  out"  after  the 
war ;  the  man  of  business  retires  after  he  has  made  his 
competency ;  the  professor  ma}''  become  "  emeritus," 
and  live  on  his  annuity :  but  the  Christian  is  to  be  a 
Christian,  and  to  hold  himself  at  the  disposal  of  his 
Lord,  while  he  lives.     His  fight    continues  while  life 


THE   I' LOU G RING   SERVANT.  411 

lasts ;  his  obligation  to  attend  his  Master's  call  abides 
till  he  hears  that  last  call  of  all,  "  Come  up  hither."  He 
is  to  be  always  waiting  and  watching,  until  death. 

Now,  this  may  seem  a  hard  saying ;  but  it  is  true,  and 
it  is  well  that  we  should  look  it  fairly  in  the  face.  The 
Christian  vocation  is  no  holiday  aifair.  It  is,  on  tlie 
contrary,  a  most  arduous  and  exacting  thing ;  a  thing 
that  has  no  attractions  for  human  indolence ;  a  thing 
loftier  in  its  ideal  than  any  standard  of  duty  which 
men  may  set  up  for  themselves.  It  demands  our  all^ 
at  all  times,  for  Christ,  and  that  we  hold  ourselves  by 
day  and  by  night  at  his  disposal,  for  the  doing  of  his 
will. 

II.  Now,  with  this  view  of  our  calling  clearly  before 
us,  observe,  in  the  second  place,  what  light  the  parable 
throws  on  the  spirit  in  which  such  demands  ought  to  be 
met  by  us.  And  here  it  is  pertinent  to  say,  first  of  all, 
that  we  must  meet  them  with  patience.  There  must  be 
no  murmuring  or  whimpering  over  our  lot,  as  if  it  were 
tremendously  hard,  and  as  if  we  were  undergoing  a 
species  of  martyrdom.  We  are  not  to  pity  ourselves  as 
if  we  were  being  oppressed  or  overborne,  but  to  go  for- 
ward to  that  which  is  reciuii'ed  of  us,  courageously, 
patiently,  and  perseveringly. 

And  then,  on  the  other  side,  we  are  not  to  stroke 
ourselves  down  complacently  after  we  have  met  the 
demand  upon  us,  as  if  we  had  done  something  extraor- 
dinary. Pride  after  toil  is  just  as  much  out  of  place 
here  as  murmuring  under  toil.  As  one  ^  has  well  said, 
"  There  is  no  enemy  to  all  high  attainment  so  deadly  as 
self-satisfaction."  We  are  not  to  think  about  ourselves 
at  all,  but  of-  God,  of  what  he  has  been  to  us  and  what 

1  Bruce  :  Parabolic  Teaching  of  Christ,  p.  171. 


412  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

he  has  done  for  us,  and  of  what  we  owe  to  him ;  and 
then,  when  we  get  to  a  right  and  proper  estimate  of  that, 
our  most  arduous  efforts  and  our  most  costly  sacrifices 
will  seem  so  small  in  comparison,  that  we  shall  be  ready 
to  exclaim,  "  We  are  unprofitable  servants !  All  that  we 
have  done  does  not  begin  to  measure  the  greatness  of 
our  indebtedness  to  Him  for  whom  we  have  done  it." 
Thus,  though  the  language  which  the  parable  puts  into 
the  mouth  of  a  Christian  is  that  of  a  servant,  one  must 
be  something  higher  than  a  mere  servant  before  he  will 
use  it.  For,  to  quote  again  from  Bruce,^  "  It  is  true  of 
slaves,  that  they  are  unprofitable ;  but  it  is  not  true 
of  them  that  they  confess  themselves  to  be  so.  .  .  ,  It  is 
only  the  free  man  who  makes  such  a  confession,  and  in 
the  very  act  of  making  it  he  shows  himself  to  be  free." 
Thus,  in  order  to  comply  with  the  exactions  of  the 
Christian  life,  in  the  spirit  which  this  parable  recom- 
mends, we  have  to  become  reconciled  to  God  through 
Jesus  Christ.  It  is  the  sense  of  redemption  and  the 
consciousness  of  regeneration  whereby  we  have  become 
no  longer  servants,  but  sons,  alone,  that  will  impel  us 
to  reckon  ourselves  as  not  our  own,  and  to  do  with- 
out a  murmur,  and  without  the  least  self-complacency, 
all  that  God  requires  at  our  hands.  Tlie  man  whose 
idol  is  duty  will  say,  after  he  has  satisfied  its  demand, 
"  I  have  done  my  duty,  and  my  work  is  finished."  But 
he  whose  impulse  is  love  will  never  be  satisfied  with 
what  he  has  accomplished,  but  will  go  on  to  new  efforts 
and  new  sacrifices,  just  to  give  expression  to  that  affec- 
tion. Only,  therefore,  when  we  get  to  the  apprehension 
of  the  love  of  God  to  us  in  Christ,  can  we  rise  to  the 
height  whereon  a  man  is  disposed  to  count  duty  too 
small,  and,  disparaging  his  doing  of  that,  to  start  off,  and 

1  Ibid,  p.  17G. 


THE  PLOUGHING   SERVANT.  413 

climb  a  steeper  and  loftier  hill,  at  the  impulse  of  grati- 
tude. Conscience  will  urge  to  duty,  and  will  be  con- 
tent with  that,  nay,  will  be  complacent  over  that ;  but 
love  will  constrain  to  something  more  than  duty,  and 
will  never  cease  its  exertions  while  they  are  needed  or 
while  it  endures.  And  so,  although  the  parable  at  first 
sight  may  seem  to  present  God  to  us  in  a  repulsive 
light,  as  a  mere  slave-master,  we  see,  now  that  we  have 
got  to  the  end  of  it,  that  we  can  comply  with  its  re- 
quirements only  when  we  attain  to  the  apprehension  of 
his  love.  Thus  the  allegory  has  as  its  unseen  founda- 
tion, all  the  while,  the  very  grace  which  it  appears  to 
ignore.  I  cannot  say,  "  I  am  an  unprofitable  servant," 
until  I  am  a  redeemed  man  ;  and  when  I  am  a  redeemed 
man,  I  am  no  longer  a  mere  servant,  but  a  son,  working 
for  love,  and  not  simply  from  a  sense  of  duty.  The 
Christian  calling  requires  that  we  shall  do  more  than 
others ;  but  then  it  gives  us,  in  the  love  of  Christ,  a  mo- 
tive which  will  not  allow  us  to  be  content  with  doing 
just  as  others  do.  To  get  that  motive,  therefore,  we 
must  open  our  hearts  to  receive  Christ's  love.  We 
must  freely  accept  him  and  his  salvation,  and  then  that 
will  enkindle  in  our  souls  a  gratitude  that  will  emanci- 
pate us  from  the  thraldom  of  legal  service,  and  imj)el  us 
to  offer  unto  God  the  constant  devotion  of  a  child. 

When  the  life  of  a  beloved  son  is  hanging  in  the  bal- 
ance, no  one  can  persuade  his  mother  to  take  rest. 
You  may  tell  her  that  others  are  watching,  that  every 
thing  is  being  done  that  can  be  done,  that  it  is  her 
"  duty  "  to  take  a  respite  ;  but  you  might  as  well  speak 
to  the  deaf,  for  she  is  his  mother,  and  her  mother-love 
will  not  let  her  be  content  with  less  than  her  own  per- 
sonal ministry  to  her  boy.  But  does  she  think  then  of 
doing  merely  her  duty  to  him  ?     Is  she  measuring  her 


414  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

conduct  then  by  any  standard  of  rectitude  ?  Nothing 
of  the  kind  I  She  has  risen  above  all  standards  and  all 
duty.  She  does  just  what  her  love  impels  her ;  and  all 
she  does  is  so  little  able  to  content  her,  that  she  is  only 
sorry  she  can  do  no  more.  Now,  it  will  be  the  same 
with  us  and  the  service  of  God,  if  only  we  attain  to 
love  of  him  for  what  he  is  to  us,  and  for  what  he  has 
done  for  us  in  Christ.  It  will  lift  us  above  legalism, 
and  make  the  mere  doing  of  duty  seem  but  meagre 
and  unprofitable.  It  will  keep  us  from  murmuring,  and 
preserve  us  from  self-complacency ;  for  duty  can  be  sat- 
isfied with  its  doings,  but  love  can  never  do  enough. 
"Thank  God,"  said  one  in  dying,  "I  have  done  my 
dut3^"  "  Alas  I  "  says  the  expiring  Christian,  after  all 
he  has  done,  "  I  am  an  unprofitable  servant."  TJiere  is 
the  difference  between  the  two.  Let  us,  then,  get  to  this 
love  of  God  in  Christ,  and  the  exactions  of  the  Chris- 
tian, life  will  not  appal  us,  while  the  meeting  of  them 
will  not  puff  us  up ;  for  we  shall  have  the  courage  to  go 
forward  to  them,  and  the  humility  not  to  be  complacent 
over  them.  And  when  our  life  on  earth  is  done,  just  as 
here  we  felt  all  through  that  we  could  never  do  enough 
for  Christ,  we  shall  discover  hereafter  that  Christ  can 
never  do  enough  for  us ;  that,  as  we  have  sought  to  serve 
him  here,  he  will  serve  us  there ;  and  that,  as  we  con- 
stantly strove  to  honor  him  here,  he  will  do  immortal 
honor  to  us  there.  "  For  "  —  I  revert  to  the  other  side, 
and  quote  again  the  words,  and  wonderful  words  they 
are  — "  he  will  gird  himself,  and  make  us  to  sit  down 
to  meat,  and  will  come  forth  and  serve  us." 


THE  IMPORTUNATE    WIUOW.  416 


XXVII. 

THE    IMPORTUNATE    IVIDOW,    AND    THE 
PHARISEE    AND    THE    PUBLICAN. 

(Luke  xvii.  13-21.) 

The  parable  of  the  importunate  widow  was  designed 
to  enforce  the  lesson  that  "  men  ought  always  to  pray, 
and  not  to  faint."  But  in  order  to  see  what  these 
words  specially  refer  to,  we  must  go  back  uj^on  the  dis- 
course which  is  summarized  in  the  latter  portion  of  the 
chapter  which  immediately  precedes.  That  discourse, 
as  you  will  at  once  perceive,  treats  of  the  second  per- 
sonal appearance  of  the  Lord  Jesus  upon  the  earth ;  and 
while  dwelling  upon  the  certainty  of  that  event,  it  par- 
ticularly emphasizes  these  two  things  concerning  it : 
namely,  that  it  should  be  long  delayed,  and  that  it 
should  occur  when  it  was  least  expected.  There  would 
be  many  times  in  the  history  of  the  church,  when,  con- 
tending with  adversaries,  and  suffering  injustice  at  the 
hands  of  their  persecutors,  its  members  should  "  desire 
to  see  one  of  the  da3'S  of  the  Son  of  man,"  and  should  not 
see  it ;  but  they  were  not  to  cease  to  expect  or  to  pray 
for  that  great  deliverance,  because  of  its  being  so  long 
deferred.  It  would  surely  come,  and  when  it  came  it 
would  bring  a  speedy  issue  out  of  all  their  troubles : 
therefore,  at  all  times,  and  in  all  circumstances,  they 
were  to  keep  that  great  event  in  mind,  and  make  its 
coming  the  object  of  their  earnest  supplication. 


416  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

This  being  the  primary  purpose  for  which  the  parable 
was  spoken,  we  can  see  that  the  "  praying  always  "  here 
is  a  different  thing  from  that  which  Paul  had  in  his 
mind  when  he  enjoined  his  readers  to  "pray  without 
ceasing."  That  referred  to  the  constant  maintenance  of 
a  devotional  spirit,  so  that  the  habitual  attitude  of  the 
soul  toward  God  should  be  one  of  prayer.  But  this 
describes  the  case  of  one  who  has  been  long  making 
request  for  that  which  has  not  yet  been  granted,  and  it 
encourages  him  to  continue  in  the  presentation  of  his 
petition,  in  spite  of  its  apparent  uselessness.  As  Eders- 
heim  has  said,  "  The  word  '  always '  must  not  be  under- 
stood as  if  it  meant  continuously,  but  in  the  sense  of 
under  all  circumstances,  however  aj)parently  adverse, 
when  it  seems  as  if  an  answer  could  not  come,  and  we 
are  therefore  in  danger  of  '  fainting '  or  becoming  weary."  ^ 
It  is  not  that  we  should  never  be  doing  any  thing  else 
than  praying  for  the  coming  of  the  Lord ;  but  that  we 
should  not  allow  any  influences  however  depressing,  or 
any  delay  however  long,  to  keep  us  from  continuing  to 
pray  for  the  appearing  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ.  The  Church  on  earth  must  never  allow  herself 
to  become  so  hopeless  and  unbelieving,  in  regard  to  the 
second  coming  of  her  Lord,  as  to  give  up  praying  for 
that  great  consummation,  when  all  her  wrongs  shall  be 
redressed,  and  all  her  troubles  shall  be  brought  to  a 
blessed  and  everlasting  end.  That  is  the  great  lesson 
of  the  parable,  and  it  is  to  that  the  Saviour  reverts 
when,  as  he  concludes,  he  says,  "Nevertheless,  when 
the  Son  of  man  cometh  shall  he  find  that  faith  ?  "  for  in 
the  original,  the  article  is  used,  and  the  reference  is  to 
such  faith  as  will  continue  to  the  end  looking  and  pray- 
ing for  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  man  "  upon  the  earth." 

1  Life  and  Times  of  Jesus  the  Christ,  vol.  ii.  p.  286. 


THE  IMPORTUNATE    WIDOW.  417 

Now,  with  this  clear  comprehensiou  of  the  design  of 
the  [);irable  in  our  iniiids,  let  us  proceed  to  its  interpre- 
tation. We  have  here  a  widow,  deprived  of  her  nat- 
ural protector,  and  made  the  victim  of  an  unscrupulous 
man's  injustice.  In  her  extremity  she  applies  to  the 
judge,  but  he  too  is  without  any  principle.  He  is  not 
only  known  by  others  as  one  who  neither  fears  God 
nor  regards  man,  but  he  absolutel}^  glories  in  these 
things  himself  as  if  they  constituted  a  title  to  greatness. 
He  did  just  as  it  i)leased  him ;  and  it  i)leased  him  most 
to  serve  his  own  interests,  to  promote  his  own  aggran- 
dizement, and  to  take  his  own  ease.  There  was 
small  hope,  therefore,  that  he  would  care  to  right  this 
widow's  wrongs.  She  could  bring  no  influence  to  bear 
upon  him  that  was  likely  to  move  him,  and  she  had 
no  gold  wherewith  to  bribe  him.  But  she  held  at  him 
with  the  persistence  of  one  who  was  apparently  deter- 
mined not  to  let  him  go  until  he  did  her  justice.  And 
at  length  she  conquered;  for  he  said,  "Because  this 
widow  troubleth  me,  I  will  do  her  justice,  lest  by  her 
continual  coming  she  weary  me."  This  last  phrase  has 
been  rendered  in  the  Revised  Version,  "lest  she  wear 
me  out  by  her  continual  coming ; "  and  by  the  American 
Revisers,  "  lest  at  last  by  her  coming  she  wear  me  out." 
But  it  is  questionable,  to  me,  if  either  of  these  expres- 
sions conveys  the  full  force  of  the  original.  The  word 
rendered  "  weary,"  or  "  wear,"  is  literally  "  to  strike 
under  the  eyes,"  ^  and  seems  to  indicate  that  this  judge 
felt  that  if  he  did  not  attend  to  the  case  of  the  widow, 
she  would  ultimately  be  tempted  to  violence.  It  was 
as  if  he  had  said,  "She'll  come  to  blows  by  and  by;"^ 

1  The  Greek  is  vTru-maiji,  and  tlie  verb  signilies  to  give  one  a  black 
eye,  to  disfi-^ure  tho  face. 

2  This  is  the  view  of  Meyer, 


418  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

and  it  is  not  unlikely,  as  Godet  suggests,  that  there  is  a 
touch  of  humor  in  the  term.  In  any  case,  the  widow 
gains  her  cause  at  last  through  that  very  love  of  ease 
in  the  judge  which  at  first  prevented  him  from  exam- 
ining into  her  case. 

Now,  from  this  analysis  of  the  parable,  it  is  at  once 
apparent  that  we  have  here  not  an  allegory  proper,  but 
a  simple  story  from  which  an  argument  is  drawn.  We 
must  not  say  that  the  judge  in  any  sense  represents 
God,  or  that  the  widow  is  a  type  of  what  a  suppliant 
should  be.  The  very  reverse  is  true ;  and  the  force  of 
the  argument  drawn  by  our  Lord  from  the  parable  lies 
in  the  unlikeness  of  God  to  this  unjust  judge,  and  in 
the  unlikeness  of  the  true  Christian  suppliant  to  this 
widow.  It  is  here  just  as  it  was  in  the  case  of  the  para- 
ble of  the  friend  at  midnight,  with  which  this  one  has 
so  much  in  common  ;  and  the  argument  is  not  so  much 
from  the  less  to  the  greater,  as  from  the  worse  to  the 
better.  It  may  be  amplified  into  these  words :  "  Hear 
what  the  judge  of  unrighteousness  saith ;  and  shall  not 
God — the  Judge  of  righteousness,  and  the  Father  of 
his  people  —  do  justice  to  his  elect,  who  cry  to  him 
night  and  day,  not  to  tease  and  worry  him  by  their  en- 
treaties, but  out  of  their  love  to  him  and  confidence  in 
him,  though  he  delay  long  to  interfere  in  their  behalf? 
I  tell  you  that  he  will  do  justice  to  them,  and  when  he 
begins  he  will  do  it  speedily ;  for  the  day  of  the  Lord 
will  make  short  work  with  all  who  are  his  adversaries, 
and  who  have  been  the  oppressors  of  his  people."  You 
observe  that  I  have  carried  this  argument  through  ;  and 
that  I  have  pointed  a  contrast  between  the  widow,  and 
the  elect  of  God,  as  well  as  between  the  unjust  judge, 
and  God  himself.  I  do  not  think  that  we  are  warranted 
to  take  this  woman's  importunity  with  the  judge  as  a 


THE  IMPORTUNATE    WIDOW.  419 

pattern  for  our  praying,  any  more  than  we  are  to  take 
the  judge's  yielding  to  her  at  last  as  a  type  of  God's 
answering  of  prayer.  This  woman  was  not  a  model 
suppliant.  Her  plan  was  to  "  browbeat "  —  for  that  is 
the  exact  idiomatic  equivalent  to  the  original  word  — 
the  judge  into  giving  her  what  she  wanted.  But  that 
is  no  right  spirit  to  cherish  when  we  pray  to  God ;  and 
the  argument  of  the  parable  is,  that  if  she  succeeded  by 
that  plan,  with  such  a  judge,  much  more  God's  people, 
praying  to  him  in  filial  love  and  reverence  and  confi- 
dence, will  receive  from  him  at  length  that  which  he 
has  promised. 

I  am  the  more  particular  to  insist  on  this,  because  I 
am  persuaded  that  multitudes  among  us  have  an  en- 
tirely erroneous  idea  about  this  matter  of  what  they 
call  importunity  in  prayer.  They  imagine  that  if  they 
will  only  hold  at  God,  as  a  foolish  child  does  at  an  in- 
dulgent parent,  they  will  at  last  receive  what  they  want, 
whatever  it  may  be.  They  give  the  impression  that 
they  believe  that  the  Lord  is  unwilling  to  bless  them, 
and  that  they  must  wring  favors  out  of  him  by  force 
of  importunity.  They  think,  in  other  words,  that  they 
will  be  heard  for  their  persistence  in  speaking  to  him. 
Now,  the  success  of  our  prayers  does  not  depend  on 
any  thing  of  that  kind,  and  it  is  a  libel  on  God  to  cher- 
ish the  notion  that  he  is  reluctant  to  bless  his  children. 
Moreover,  it  is  an  entire  perversion  of  the  purpose  of 
this  parable,  to  take  it  as  if  meant  to  teach  us  that  we 
shall  get  from  God  that  which  we  want,  provided  only 
we  "  browbeat "  him  into  giving  it  by  our  persistence. 
The  inference  from  the  parable  is  not  that  we  shall  be 
heard  because  we  persevere  in  pra3'er ;  but,  rather,  that 
we  should  persevere  in  prayer  even  when  the  answer 
appears  to  be  long  delayed,  because  it  is  God  to  whom 


420  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

we  are  praying,  and  we  know  that  he  is  always  willing 
to  bless,  and  will  ultimately  give  to  us  that  which  is 
best. 

The  primary  reference  of  this  parable,  as  we  have  seen, 
is  to  the  second  coming  of  Christ,  which  would  be  so 
long  delayed  that  the  Church  would  be  tempted  to  cease 
praying  for  it  altogether ;  but  its  principle  is  equally 
applicable  to  all  cases  in  which  believers,  seeking  for 
that  which  God  has  promised,  are  in  danger  of  growing 
faint  through  weariness  in  waiting,  or  through  unbelief. 
"  Wait  on  God."  Let  him  take  his  own  time  ;  and  while 
you  wait  for  that  time,  solace  yourselves  with  devout 
and  loving  dependence  on  him  as  expressed  in  prayer. 
That  is  the  true  spirit  of  filial  piety,  and  that  will  suc- 
ceed with  God  far,  far  better  than  the  widow's  method 
did  with  the  unjust  judge.  The  delay  in  answering 
prayer  does  not  imply  that  God  has  forgotten  either 
you  or  his  promise ;  therefore  be  not  tempted  by  that 
delay  to  give  up  prayer  altogether,  or  to  lose  your  faith 
in  God  as  the  hearer  of  prayer.  He  has  not  overlooked 
you,  and  in  his  own  time  the  answer  will  come  in  such 
a  way  as  to  convince  you  that  all  through  he  has  been 
planning  for  your  highest  good. 

Such  is  the  bearing  of  this  parable  on  the  subject  of 
prayer.  It  admits  that  God  may  delay  answering  prayer, 
and  it  tells  us  what  our  demeanor  should  be  under  such 
an  experience  ;  but  it  gives  no  explanation  of  the  delay. 
Still,  with  the  light  which  is  tin-own  on  the  subject  from 
other  parts  of  the  Scripture,  we  may  see  that  oftentimes 
answers  to  prayer  are  deferred,  in  order  that  God's 
forbearance  may  be  shown  a  little  longer  to  those  who 
are  oppressing  his  people,  if  haply  they  may  be  led  to 
repentance.  Sometimes,  too,  the  purpose  of  the  delay, 
as  iu   the   cases  of  Jacob  and   of  the  Syrophosnician 


THE  PHARISEE  AND   THE  PUBLICAN.  421 

woman,  is  to  foster  and  develop  the  faith  and  holiness 
of  the  suppliant ;  while  occasionally,  as  in  the  case  of 
Job,  it  may  be  due  to  the  fact  that  God  designs,  through 
the  demeanor  of  the  suppliant  himself,  to  show  how 
powerful  his  grace  is  to  sustain,  under  the  most  trying 
circumstances,  all  who  trust  in  him.  But  whatever 
may  be  the  explanation  of  the  delay,  it  is  not  either  in 
God's  lack  of  love  to  us,  or  in  his  unwillingness  to  bless 
us,  or  in  his  unfaithfulness  to  his  promises ;  and  there- 
fore it  should  never  tempt  us  to  give  up  praying  to 
him.  His  delay  should  not  destroy  our  faith  in  him, 
but  rather  quicken  it  into  livelier  exercise ;  and  we 
should  continue  to  pra}',  not  because  we  shall  be  heard 
for  our  continuance,  but  because,  in  spite  of  his  appar- 
ent indifference,  we  are  sure  that  he  continues  to  love 
us,  and  will  certainly  bless  us.  Not  because  we  trust 
in  our  importunity,  so  called,  but  because  we  know  his 
love  and  faithfulness,  we  should  pray  in  all  circum- 
stances, and  never  faint. 

But  all  is  not  praj'er  which  calls  itself  by  that  name ; 
and  in  order  to  guard  us  against  mistake  in  a  matter  of 
so  much  importance,  the  Lord  proceeds  to  show  what 
true  prayer  is,  by  letting  us  overhear  two  men  at  their 
devotions.  The  first  is  a  Pharisee,  who,  like  so  many  of 
his  class,  trusted  in  himself  that  he  was  righteous,  and 
despised  others.  He  took  his  position  by  himself  in  the 
temple  ;  but  his  prayer,  if  so  we  may  call  it,  was  merely 
a  self-complacent  soliloquy.  He  expressed  no  wants. 
He  framed  no  petition.  He  simply  rehearsed  the  num- 
ber of  his  religious  observances,  and  recounted  his  good 
qualities.  He  thanked  God  indeed,  in  words:  yet  even 
while  he  was  doing  that,  we  can  perceive  that  he  was 
merely  congratulating  himself.     But  there  was  no  con- 


422  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

scioiisness  of  need,  and  none  of  the  urgency  of  one 
who  felt  that  unless  God  supplied  his  need  he  would 
be  eternally  undone.  It  was  thus  he  spake  :  "  God,  I 
thank  thee  that  I  am  not  as  other  men  are,  extortioners, 
unjust,  adulterers,  or  even  as  this  publican.  I  fast  twice 
in  the  week,  I  give  tithes  of  all  that  I  possess."  Here 
was  nothing  of  devotion,  or  dependence,  or  any  other 
religious  emotion,  —  nothing  but  a  trusting  in  himself, 
and  a  despising  of  others. 

The  other  suppliant  was  a  publican,  who,  abashed  in 
the  presence  of  the  Great  Supreme,  "stood  afar  off,  and 
would  not  lift  up  so  much  as  his  eyes  unto  heaven,  but 
smote  upon  his  breast."  His  attitude  was  not  assumed 
for  effect,  like  that  of  the  Pharisee,  but  was  the  natural 
expression  given  by  his  whole  body  to  the  feelings 
which  were  vibrating  within  liim.  For  it  is  a  mistake 
to  suppose  that  a  man  speaks  only  by  the  tongue.  His 
eyes,  his  face,  his  hands,  all  have  been  endowed  with 
the  power  of  expression ;  and,  when  his  heart  is  pro- 
foundly moved,  the  very  posture  which  his  body  intui- 
tively and  unconsciously  assumes  is  an  indication  of  the 
emotions  which  stir  his  soul.  Hence  the  attitude  and 
action  of  the  publican,  his  bowed  head,  the  smiting  of 
his  breast,  as  well  as  the  place  on  which  he  stood,  were 
just  so  many  indices  —  all  the  more  sincere  because  they 
were  unstudied  —  of  his  profound  humility. 

Equally  apparent  is  his  earnestness.  Here  was  no 
playing  at  prayer.  Here  was  no  attempt,  either,  at 
making  a  prayer  by  elaborate  phrase-mongering.  This 
entreaty  was  born  out  of  the  emergency  in  which  the 
man  felt  himself  to  be.  It  came  forth,  as  one  might 
say,  of  itself,  without  any  thought  on  his  part  of  how 
he  would  shape  it;  and  just  because  of  that,  it  took  the 
best  possible  shape.     There  was  no  circumlocution  about 


THE  PHARISEE  AND   THE  PUBLICAN.  423 

it.  He  went  at  once  to  the  heart  of  the  matter,  and 
condensed  into  one  brief  utterance  the  whole  need  of 
his  soul,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me,  the  sinner."  No  one 
but  a  man  in  earnest  could  have  done  that.  The  gen- 
eral on  a  review  day,  when  he  and  his  troops  are  to  go 
through  all  the  manoeuvres  of  a  military  parade,  may 
harangue  his  soldiers  in  a  style  of  florid  and  high-sound- 
ing rhetoric ;  but  when  they  are  on  a  real  battle-field 
with  the  enemy  in  front  of  them,  he  can  utter  only  a 
few  burning  words,  yet  these  few  are  genuine,  simple, 
direct,  and  therefore  eloquent.  When  the  heart  is 
stirred,  it  speaks  in  telegrams.  Its  words  then  are 
winged ;  and  the  more  thoroughly  it  is  stirred,  the  more 
arrowy  do  its  exclamations  become.  "  Lord,  save  me,  I 
perish !  "  "  Lord,  help  me  I  "  "  Lord,  I  believe,  help 
thou  mine  unbelief!"  such  are  specimens  of  its  pant- 
ing ejaculations  in  its  times  of  agony ;  and  such  also 
was  the  fervid  utterance  of  the  publican  in  the  case 
before  us.  One  may  say  a  great  deal,  and  yet  have 
little  real  prayer  in  his  words ;  and  again,  as  here,  one 
may  be  hardly  able  to  utter  a  sentence,  but  there  may 
be  in  that  sentence  the  condensation  of  a  whole 
liturgy. 

These  are  the  characteristics  of  the  two  prayers  in 
this  parable,  so  far  as  they  appear  upon  the  surface. 
Indeed,  that  of  the  Pharisee  was  altogether  on  the 
surface,  and  therefore  we  need  not  trouble  ourselves 
further  about  it;  but  if  we  would  really  comprehend  all 
that  the  publican's  implied,  we  must  go  a  little  deeper, 
and  when*"we  (kt  so  we  may  learn  how  it  came  that  he 
"  went  down  to  his  house  justified  rather  than  the  other." 

I.  For,  in  the  first  place,  when  we  come  to  examine 
it,  we  find  that  it  sprang  out  of  deep  conviction  of  sin. 


424  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

"God  —  me  the  sinner."  These  are  the  words  which 
indicate  the  workings  of  the  man's  conscience ;  and 
when  we  place  them  thus,  side  by  side,  we  see  how  seri- 
ous a  thing  in  his  view  sin  really  was.  Many  would  re- 
strict that  term  to  the  designation  of  flagrant  offences, 
and  such  deeds  as  affect  a  man's  respectability  in  society ; 
others,  reading  the  law  of  God  as  having  reference  only 
to  outward  acts,  imagine  that  sin  consists  merely  in 
overt  wickedness  ;  while,  in  the  view  of  not  a  few,  sin 
is  a  mere  misfortune,  —  a  thing  to  be  regretted  as  a 
calamity,  but  not  involving  personal  blame.  And  there 
are  some  who,  comparing  themselves  with  their  neigh- 
bors, think  that  there  is  little  wrong  with  them  at  all. 
But  when  one  has  been  enlightened  in  the  knowledge 
of  himself  and  of  God's  law,  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  he  has 
but  one  idea  of  the  matter,  and  one  estimate  of  himself. 
Behold  it  here!  Sin,  in  this  man's  eyes,  is  rebellion 
against  God.  It  is  so,  else  why  does  he  call  on  God  at 
all  ?  He  does  not  invoke  society  to  wipe  awa}^  the  re- 
proach which  it  had  written  against  the  publican.  He 
does  not  beg  his  fellow-men  to  receive  him  into  their 
confidence  and  esteem.  But  he  asks  mercy  from  God, 
and  he  does  so  because  he  knows  that  it  is  against  God 
that  he  has  sinned,  —  against  God,  who  had  done  more 
for  him  than  ever  earthly  father  did  for  a  son  ;  against 
God,  who  had  crowned  him  with  his  tender  mercies  and 
loving-kindnesses.  The  essence  of  sin,  to  him,  is  that  it 
has  dishonored  God  by  outraging  his  law  and  insulting 
his  love.  And  in  so  regarding  sin  he  does  not  restrict 
it  to  actions.  He  sees  God's  law  to  be  exceeding  broad, 
including  his  thoughts  and  desires  and  disposition,  as 
well  as  his  outward  conduct ;  nay,  such  is  his  sense  of 
the  enormity  of  his  own  guilt,  that  he  has  notliing  to 
say  about  his  neighbors.     The  Pharisee,  when  he  had 


THE   PHARISEE  AND    THE  PUBLICAN  425 

exhausted  his  panegyric  upon  himself,  could  not  con- 
clude without  a  horizontal  lling  at  the  publican  ;  but 
the  publican  is  so  overwhelmed  with  his  own  sin,  that 
he  has  no  thought  at  the  moment  for  others.  It  is  al- 
most with  him  as  if  he  were  the  only  guilty  one  in  the 
world ;  for  he  says,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me  the  sinner." 
Brethren,  when  a  man  is  convinced  thus  of  sin,  he  can- 
not but  be  abased ;  when,  in  his  guiltiness  and  ingrati- 
tude, he  confronts  himself  thus  with  God  in  His  purity 
and  love,  he  cannot  but  exclaim,  "  Woe  is  me,  for  I  am 
a  man  of  unclean  lips  !  "  "  Behold,  I  am  vile,  and  what 
shall  I  answer  ?  "  "  God  be  merciful  to  me  the  sinner  ! " 

II.  But,  in  the  second  place,  this  prayer  sprang  out  of 
a  sense  of  helplessness.  Observe,  it  is  a  cry  for  mercy. 
Now  let  us  see  what  is  implied  in  that.  Very  clearly  it 
evinces  that  in  the  suppliant's  estimation  there  was 
nothing  about  himself,  on  the  ground  of  which  he  could 
claim  forgiveness.  He  does  not  ask  for  justice.  He 
does  not  seek  that  any  thing  should  be  done  for  him,  or 
given  to  him,  as  a  debt  or  of  right.  He  presumes  not, 
like  the  Pharisee,  to  speak  of  his  own  merit.  His  cry 
is  for  mercy.  He  acknowledges  the  justice  of  his  con- 
demnation. He  admits,  besides,  that  there  is  in  him  no 
cause  or  ground  why  the  sentence  under  which  he  lies 
should  not  be  executed  upon  him.  He  sues  alone  for 
mercy.  Now,  it  is  the  same  with  every  one  of  us :  and 
the  sooner  we  come  to  see  that,  it  will  be  the  better  for 
us  ;  for  if  we  ever  obtain  deliverance  from  God,  it  will 
not  be  because  of  any  tiling  about  ourselves,  but  simpl}'- 
from  the  free,  unmerited  favor  of  the  Most  High.  We 
are  to  accept  it  as  a  gift,  but  we  cannot  claim  it  as  a 
right.  It  is  "not  of  works,  lest  any  man  should  boast." 
This  is  a  humbling  doctrine,  but  it   is  the  doctrine  of 


426  THE   PARABLES   OF  OUR    SAVIOUR. 

God's  book ;  and  it  puts  us  all  on  a  level,  for,  as  Paul 
says,  "  There  is  no  difference,  for  all  have  sinned  and 
come  short  of  the  glory  of  God."  ^  Before  him  every 
one  of  us  deserves  to  perish ;  and  when  v^e  come  to  him 
each  of  us  must  renounce  merit,  and  plead  for  mercy. 
Just  here  many  falter.  They  want  to  have  some 
of  the  credit  of  their  own  deliverance.  They  wish 
something  to  be  allowed  for  their  liberality  to  good  ob- 
jects, something  for  their  activity  in  benevolent  enter- 
prises, something  for  the  restraint  which  they  have  tried 
to  put  on  their  evil  principles ;  and  then  they  will  be 
content  to  receive  the  balance  as  a  gratuity  from  God. 
But  all  such  claims  must  be  disavowed.  "  'Tis  from  the 
mercy  of  our  God  that  all  our  hopes  begin."  Now,  merit 
and  mercy  are  altogether  incompatible :  as  Paul  has  put 
it,  and  we  never  can  put  it  better,  "  if  it  be  by  grace, 
then  it  is  no  more  of  works,  otherwise  grace  is  no  more 
grace  ;  but  if  it  be  of  works,  then  it  is  no  more  grace, 
otherwise  work  is  no  more  work."  ^  "  Not  by  works  of 
righteousness  which  we  have  done,  but  according  to  his 
mercy  he  saved  us."  ^  To  that  mercy,  then,  we  must 
make  our  plea ;  for  that  we  must  cry  in  the  spirit  of 
these  simple  lines,  — 

"  Mercy,  good  Lord !  mercy  I  crave, 
This  is  the  total  sum ; 
For  mercy,  Lord,  is  all  my  suit : 
Lord,  let  thy  mercy  come." 

III.  But  now,  finally,  this  prayer  was  a  cry  of  faith. 
So  much  is  evident  from  the  statement  of  the  Lord  that 
the  publican  went  down  to  his  house  justified ;  but  in 
the  petition  itself,  there  is,  to  the  reader  of  the  original, 
a  striking  proof  of  the  same  thing.     For,  the  term  ren- 

1  Rom.  iii.  22,  23.  2  Kom.  xi.  6.  3  Tit.  iii.  5. 


rilE   PHARISEE  AND    TUE  PUBLICAN.  427 

dered  "be  merciful  "  has  in  it  a  reference  to  atonement.' 
It  is  a  form  of  the  same  word  which  is  used  when 
the  reconciliation  of  sinners  to  God,  on  the  ground  of 
sacrifice,  is  referred  to  throughout  the  Scriptures.  It  is 
the  verb  of  which  the  Greek  name  which  designated 
the  blood-besprinkled  "  mercy-seat "  is  the  cognate 
noun.  It  is  allied  to  the  word  which  is  translated 
"  propitiation  "  in  the  well-known  passage,^  "  whom  God 
hath  set  forth  to  be  a  propitiation ; "  and  also  to  that 
occurring  in  the  First  Epistle  of  John,^  "  He  is  the 
propitiation  for  our  sins,  and  not  for  ours  only,  but  for 
the  sins  of  the  whole  world."  Now,  the  use  of  this 
term  by  the  publican  shows  that  he  had  in  his  mind  a 
reference  to  sacrifice,  and  to  the  promises  which  God 
had  made  to  the  Jews  in  connection  with  the  sprin- 
kling of  the  blood  of  the  victim  upon  the  mercy-seat. 
Besides,  we  must  not  forget  that  his  prayer  was  offered 
in  the  temple,  from  the  court  of  which  every  day  there 
ascended  the  smoke  of  sacrifice  both  morning  and 
evening.  Doubtless,  therefore,  to  Jehovah  as  he  had 
there  revealed  himself,  to  Jehovah  as  dwelling  between 
the  cherubim  and  over  the  mercy-seat,  this  prayer  was 
addressed.  Whether  the  suppliant  had  any  clear  idea 
of  the  typical  nature  of  these  animal  sacrifices  ;  whether 
he  had  even  a  glimpse  of  the  great  atonement  that 
was  to  be  made  by  Him  "  who  was  wounded  for  our 
transgressions,  and  ])ruised  for  our  iniquities,"  —  may 
be  exceedingly  doubtful ;  but  the  peculiarity  of  his 
language  seems  to  prove  that  his  faith  took  hold  of  tlie 
promises  which  God  had  made  in  connection  with 
sacrifice.  Now,  it  has  to  be  the  same  with  us  yet: 
only,  instead  of  the  typical  sacrifice  and  the  typical 
mercy-seat,  we  have  tlie  true  atonement,  and  the  true 

1  It  is  i\da6riTi.  2  Rom.  iii.  25.  s  i  joi,„  jj.  o 


428  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

throne  of  grace  ;  and  when  we  come  seeking  mercy, 
we  must  come  through  Jesus  Christ,  grounding  our 
hope  of  acceptance  on  the  atonement  which  he  has 
made  on  our  behalf.  We  have  no  claim  even  on  God's 
mercy,  except  in  Christ.  It  is  written,  "  God  was  in 
Christ  reconciling  the  world  unto  himself,  not  imputing 
unto  men  their  trespasses ; "  ^  and  if  we  would  obtain 
that  reconciliation,  we  must  go  into  Christ  to  secure 
it.  "  In  Christ,"  that  is  the  common  ground,  if  I  may 
so  express  it,  whereon  God  and  the  sinner  meet  in 
reconciliation.  All  that  way  in  the  direction  of  men, 
God  has  come  to  meet  us ;  all  that  way  in  the  direction 
of  God,  we  must  go  to  meet  him ;  and  when  we  meet 
him  thus  "in  Christ,"  we  have  "redemption  through  his 
blood,  even  the  forgiveness  of  sins."  ^  Indeed,  nowhere 
save  in  Christ  has  God  revealed  mercy  to  those  who 
have  violated  law.  In  this  regard  the  aspect  of  na- 
ture is  often  very  terrible.  There  is  nothing  there 
but  hard,  remorseless,  inflexible  law,  which  comes 
down  on  every  transgressor  with  unpitying  penalty. 
Fire  burns,  even  though  it  be  a  martyr  that  is  in  the 
flames.  The  tide  flows  remorselessly  in,  even  though 
a  maiden  testifying  to  Jesus  is  chained  to  a  stake  far 
within  the  flood-mark.  Everywhere  we  look,  there  is 
law,  and  penalty  for  its  violation,  but  not  a  trace  of 
mercy  to  those  by  whom  law  is  broken.  You  cannot 
see  that  in  the  evening  sky,  or  on  the  face  of  ocean, 
or  anywhere  on  the  surface  of  the  dry  land.  Nature 
may  and  does  unfold  God's  power  and  wisdom  ;  but  not 
until  he  revealed  himself  "  in  Christ "  could  we  learn 
any  thing  of  his  mercy.  At  the  cross  of  Calvary  we 
see  his  justice  and  his  mercy  ;  his  law,  and  his  tender- 
ness to  the  law-breaker,  equally  conspicuous ;  justice 

1  2"Cor.  V,  19.  2  Eph.  i.  7, 


THE  PHARISEE  AND    THE   PUBLICAN.  429 

satisfied  to  be  merciful,  and  uierey  exercised  iu  justice. 
Here  we  understand  fully  the  meaning  of  the  mystic 
name  proclaimed  to  Moses  as  he  stood  in  the  cleft 
of  the  rock  :  ^  "  Jehovah,  Jehovah,  God  merciful  and 
gracious,  long-suffering,  and  abundant  in  goodness  and 
truth,  keeping  mercy  for  thousands,  forgiving  iniquity, 
transgression,  and  sin ;  and  that  will  by  no  means 
clear  the  guilty."  Yea,  over  that  cross  of  agony,  we 
may  read  in  characters  of  light,  all  the  brighter  for 
the  gloom  out  of  which  they  shine,  another  inscription 
than  that  which  Pilate  wrote ;  and  it  is  this :  "  God  so 
loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son, 
that  whosoever  believeth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but 
have  everlasting  life."^  Here,  then,  O  sinner,  is  the 
ground  on  which  thy  hope  must  rest.  God  hath  spoken 
to  thee  in  mercy,  and  promised  thee  forgiveness  through 
the  giving-up  of  his  own  Son  on  th}^  l^ehalf.  Come  and 
take  him  at  his  word.  Come  and  seek  his  mercy  in  this 
the  way  of  his  appointment.  And  come  now,  so  that 
thou  too,  like  this  publican,  mayst  go  down  to-night  to 
thy  house  justified,  accepted,  saved. 

It  has  not  been  possible,  even  in  this  brief  and 
comprehensive  manner,  to  treat  the  publican's  prayer, 
without  preaching  the  gospel  from  it  to  sinners  gen- 
erally. But  we  must  not  forget,  that  as  it  stands  here 
contrasted  with  the  self-laudation  of  the  Pharisee,  it 
is,  in  a  sense,  a  model  for  ourselves ;  and  we  must  for 
just  a  moment  or  two  return  to  look  at  it  in  that 
aspect,  and  see  what  we  may  learn  from  it  as  to  how 
we  are  to  pray.  The  attitude  and  words  of  the  Phari- 
see warn  us  against  pride,  self-confidence,  and  arrogant 
boasting  of  ourselves  over  others,  in  our  approaches  to 

•  Exod.  xxxiv.  (!.  2  John  iii.  IG. 


430  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

God.  These  things  are  not  prayer  at  all.  They  have 
nothing  in  them  that  is  devotional.  They  are  simply 
and  only  sins,  and,  as  such,  must  be  an  abomination  to 
God.  But  if  we  would  pray  aright,  we  must  draw 
near  to  God  as  sinners,  with  humility  and  earnestness ; 
we  must  seek  those  things  which  we  feel  we  need ; 
and  we  must  in  seeking  them  make  our  appeal  to  God's 
mercy,  as  that  has  been  revealed  to  us  through  the 
sacrifice  of  his  Son  on  our  behalf,  and  expressed  in 
the  promises  which  his  Word  contains.  That  will  be 
true  prayer ;  and  though  the  answer  may  be  at  times 
delayed,  we  must  not  lose  our  faith  in  God's  love  and 
fidelity,  but  wait  in  patience,  because  we  know  that 
we  are  waiting  upon  God.  Pray  like  the  publican, 
and  wait  like  Abraham,  whose  whole  life  was  one  great, 
patient,  prayerful  expectation ;  and  who  died  "  not 
having  received  the  things  promised,"  but  seeing  them 
and  saluting  them  from  afar.  That  is  the  lesson  which 
we  are  to  learn  from  the  two  parables  of  this  evening's 
study. 


TUE   POUNDS  431 


XXVIII. 

THE  POUNDS. 

(Luke  xix.  12-37.) 

RicnTLV  to  understand  this  parable,  and  give  their 
due  significance  to  those  features  in  it  which  differ 
from  that  of  the  talents,  to  which  it  has  a  general 
resemblance,  it  is  essential  that  we  give  good  heed  to 
the  circumstances  in  Avhich,  and  the  purpose  for  which,  t^ 
it  was  spoken.  Our  Lord  had  just  been  entertained 
by  Zaccha)us,  one  of  the  chief  of  the  publicans  in  the 
city  of  Jericho,  and  was  about  to  proceed  to  Jerusalem 
on  the  occasion  of  that  passover  to  which  he  had  so 
often  referred  as  destined  to  be  the  crisis  of  his  earthly 
career.  He  was  attended  by  a  crowd,  the  members  of 
which  were  differently  affected  by  these  movements  on 
his  part.  The  Pharisees,  of  course,  were  utterly  out 
of  sympathy  with  his  treatment  of  the  tax-gatherer. 
They  were  indignant  that  he  had  accepted  the  hospi- 
tality of  one  who  belonged  to  a  class  which  they  de- 
spised ;  and,  whoever  might  be  disposed  to  accept  him 
as  a  king,  they  utterly  repudiated  his  claim  to  royalty 
over  them,  and  gave  him  to  understand  that  they  would 
never  own  his  authority. 

On  the  other  hand,  his  own  disciples  were  looking 
forward  with  high  hopes  to  his  visit  to  Jerusalem  at 
this  time.  They  trusted  that  it  was  he  who  should 
redeem  Israel,  and  eagerly  anticipated  that  he  would 


432  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

now  unfurl  liis  standard,  and  gather  round  him  those 
by  whose  means  he  would  deliver  the  chosen  people 
from  a  foreign  yoke,  and  restore  the  kingdom  of  David 
to  its  ancient  glory.  Their  idea  of  the  kingdom  of  God 
was  that  of  a  splendid  temporal  dominion,  and  they 
had  the  belief  that  now  it  was  immediately  to  appear. 

Round  these  two  parties,  the  units  in  the  multitude 
mainly  ranged  themselves ;  while  there  were,  perhaps, 
a  few  in  the  crowd,  who  were  there  merely  out  of  curi- 
osity, and  did  not  concern  themselves  at  all  either  about 
Jesus  or  his  work. 

It  was  to  meet  these  various  states  of  mind  among 
his  hearers,  that  the  Lord  spake  the  parable  before 
us.  The  story  is  one  which  a  well-known  event  in 
their  recent  national  history  would  help  them  all  to 
appreciate.  Indeed,  it  may  have  been  in  part  suggested 
to  the  mind  of  the  Redeemer  by  his  proximity  to  the 
palace  of  Archelaus,  which  was  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Jericho ;  for,  on  the  death  of  Herod  the  Great,  that 
prince  went  to  Rome  to  obtain  from  Augustus  the 
ratification  of  his  father's  will,  and  was  followed  thither 
by  an  embassy  from  Judcea,  appointed  by  the  citizens, 
who,  wearied  of  a  dynasty  of  adventurers,  desired  of 
the  emperor  that  their  country  might  be  converted  into 
a  Roman  province.  Now,  every  one  can  see  that  in 
these  historical  incidents  we  have  much  that  is  parallel 
to  the  framework  of  this  story.  In  the  parable,  how- 
ever, the  new  feature  is  introduced,  that  the  nobleman 
intrusted  certain  of  his  servants  with  sums  of  money, 
which  they  were  to  trade  with  on  his  account  in  his 
absence ;  and  then,  on  his  return,  he  held  a  reckoning 
with  them  similar  in  almost  every  respect  to  that  which 
we  have  already  had  before  us  in  the  parable  of  the 
talents. 


TUB   POUNDS  433 

Now,  in  the  light  of  the  statements  which  we  have 
made,  it  is  not  difficult  to  perceive  the  peculiar  perti- 
nence of  some  of  the  points  in  this  beautiful  but  sol- 
emn allegory.  The  nobleman  is  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  i--' 
himself ;  the  far  country  is  heaven,  to  which  Christ  has 
gone  to  await  the  eonsunnnation  of  that  kingdom  which 
lie  receives  from  his  Father  ;  the  pound  is  the  common 
privilege  of  the  gospel,  which  is  conferred  alike  on  all 
those  to  whom  it  is  proclaimed ;  and  the  return  of  the 
nobleman  is  the  second  coming  of  the  Lord,  when  he 
shall  at  the  final  judgment  take  account  of  all  to  whom 
his  Word  has  been  preached.  These  are  the  main  lines 
of  exposition  ;  but,  as  we  dwelt  at  sufficient  length  on 
most  of  them  in  our  enforcement  of  the  lessons  taught 
by  the  parable  of  the  talents,  we  shall  not  linger  over 
them  now.  We  content  ourselves,  rather,  with  bring- 
ing out  some  of  the  distinctive  features  which  belong 
to  this  of  the  pounds. 

Now,  here,  in  the  first  place,  the  departure  of  the 
nobleman  to  the  far  country,  and  his  sojourn  there 
until  he  should  receive  his  kingdom,  intimate  that  the 
second  coming  of  the  Lord  was  not  to  be  immediate. 
The  whole  trend  of  the  story  is  in  the  direction  of  the 
idea  that  a  long  while  was  to  elapse  before  his  return  to 
earth  as  King  of  kings  and  Lord  of  lords.  It  is,  there- 
fore, somewhat  marvellous  in  our  eyes,  that  after  the 
repeated  references  to  that  fact,  which  the  Lord  had 
made,  tlie  early  Christians  should  have  fallen  into  the 
very  mistake  of  those  here  mcntioiu'd.  who  tliought 
that  the  kingdom  of  God  was  innnediately  to  ap[)ear. 
But  so  it  was  :  and  the  error  led  them  into  two  differ- 
ent—  I  might  almost  say  opposite  —  evils.  On  the  one 
liaiid,  expecting  the  speedy  re-appearance  of  the  Lord, 


434  THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

and  yet  disappointed  by  his  lengthened  delay,  some 
were  tempted  to  break  through  all  restraint,  and  to 
act  as  if  he  would  never  come  at  all.  Like  the  dis- 
loyal servant,  who  began  to  say,  "  My  lord  delayeth  his 
coming,"  and  proceeded  to  "  smite  his  fellow-servants, 
and  to  eat  and  drink  with  the  drunken,"  they  gave 
themselves  to  excesses  of  every  sort,  and  virtually  threw 
off  their  allegiance  to  him.  Just  as  those  who  have  taken 
up  the  erroneous  opinion  that  God  has  promised  to 
answer  literally  every  prayer  presented  in  Christ's  name, 
are  stumbled  when  they  do  not  obtain  what  they  re- 
quest, and  sometimes  rush  to  the  extreme  of  unbelief, 
alleging  that  there  is  no  efficacy  in  prayer  at  all ;  so, 
their  anticipation  of  the  immediate  re-appearance  of 
Christ  being  frustrated,  they  went  on  to  the  denial  that 
he  would  ever  come,  saying,  "  Where  is  the  promise  of 
his  coming  ?  "  It  was  against  these,  as  you  remember, 
that  Peter  wrote  his  second  epistle,  in  which  he  re- 
affirmed with  great  positiveness,  that  "  the  day  of  the 
Lord  should  come  as  a  thief  in  the  night."  On  the 
other  hand,  there  were  those  whose  belief  in  the  im- 
mediate re-appearance  of  Christ  was  so  strong,  that 
they  could  do  nothing  either  in  the  way  of  self-cul- 
ture, or  of  work,  whether  secular  or  sacred,  because  of 
their  constant  outlook  for  his  approach.  This  was  the 
case  with  some  of  the  Thessalonians,  who  actually  gave 
up  laboring  for  their  own  support,  in  the  expectation 
that  there  would  be  no  need  for  any  such  action  on 
their  part,  since  the  Lord  was  just  at  the  door. 

But  both  of  these  classes  might  have  been  preserved 
from  their  eccentric  courses  if  they  had  been  careful  to 
mark  what  the  Lord's  teaching  on  tliis  subject  precisely 
was ;  for,  while  he  always  spoke  most  unqualifiedly  of 
the  act  of  his  coming  again  as  certain,  he  invariably 


THE  POUNDS.  435 

indicated  that  the  time  of  it  would  be  uncertain,  only 
he  made  it  clear,  as  in  the  case  of  this  parable,  that  it 
would  not  be  immediate. 

Thus  the  history  of  the  early  Christians  in  regard  to 
this  matter  is  strikingly  suggestive,  as  showing  the  con- 
nection between  erroneous  doctrinal  belief  and  laxity  of 
life  in  one  respect  or  other.  They  first  misunderstood 
the  Lord,  and  then,  as  the  result,  dishonored  him;  and  if 
we  mean  to  adorn  his  doctrine,  we  must  make  sure  first 
that  what  we  believe  is  precisely  what  he  taught.  Ex- 
travagant expectations  of  him  or  from  him,  for  which 
there  is  no  warrant  in  his  Word,  have  often  led  to  utter 
disbelief  in  him,  or  to  conduct  which  he  most  empliat- 
ically  condemns.  And  in  these  days,  when  so  much  that 
is  utterly  unwarranted  is  said  regarding  answers  to 
prayer,  it  is  well  that  this  truth  should  be  kept  in  mind 
by  all ;  for  I  greatly  fear  that  the  exaggerated  asser- 
tions that  are  made  b)'"  many,  in  regard  to  healing  by 
prayer,  and  so  called  faith-cures,  will  yet  be  responsible 
for  an  amount  of  infidelity  that  will  startle  the  apostles 
of  this  new  anomaly.  Be  sure,  therefore,  that  what  you 
believe  as  the  doctrine  of  Christ  is  that  which  he  really 
taught ;  and  especially,  in  regard  to  his  second  coming, 
be  on  your  guard  against  either  attempting  to  fix  its 
date,  or  to  prescribe  its  manner,  for  neither  of  these 
has  he  thought  proper  to  reveal. 

We  may  note,  again,  that  in  the  light  of  this  parable 
the  true  preparation  for  the  coming  of  the  kingdom 
of  the  Lord  is  that  of  character.  The  disciples,  at  tliis 
time,  had  the  idea  that  their  Lord  was  to  be  a  mere  lit- 
eral successor  to  the  throne  of  David.  They  had  no 
notion  whatever  of  the  spirituality  of  his  kingdom  :  but 
dreamed  tliat  he  was  to  be   an  earthly  monarch,  and 


/ 


436  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

that  they  were  to  be  the  members  of  his  cabinet.  Now, 
the  fact  that  the  iioblemau  in  this  parable  is  repre- 
sented as  giving  to  each  of  his  servants  a  pound  to 
trade  with  on  his  account  was  well  calculated  to  rectify 
their  views  on  thi,'5  important  subject.  For,  by  that 
trading  these  servants  would  reveal  of  what  sort  they 
were,  and  show  their  fitness  or  the  reverse  for  positions 
in  the  kingdom  of  their  master.  They  all  received  the 
same  sum ;  and  the  different  degrees  of  improvement 
which  they  made  of  that  would  indicate  the  qualities 
which  they  severally  possessed,  while  the  very  use  of 
these  qualities  would  develop  them  into  larger  excel- 
lence. The  things  they  did  in  their  lord's  absence 
would  not  be  the  same  as  those  which  they  would  be 
set  to  do  when  he  returned,  but  in  their  larger  and 
more  important  field  they  would  need  the  very  same 
characteristics  which  were  required  in  the  smaller ;  and 
the  fact  that  such  qualities  as  prudence,  faithfulness, 
energy,  and  activity,  and  not  the  military  virtues  of 
drill,  manoeuvre,  and  the  like,  would  be  required  there, 
proves  that  the  kingdom  itself  was  not  to  be  of  an  ordi- 
nary sort.  As  Bruce  has  well  said  here,  the  end  con- 
templated by  this  nobleman  "is  not  money-making,  but 
character-making,  the  development  in  his  servants  of  a 
hardihood  of  temper  and  a  firmness  of  will  which  can 
be  turned  to  good  account  when  the  obscure  traders 
shall  have  been  transformed  into  distinguished  rulers."  ^ 
So  the  design  of  Christ,  during  his  absence  from  the 
earth,  is  that  his  followers  shall  be  trained  in  charac- 
ter for  the  future  that  is  before  them  when  he  shall 
come  in  his  kingdom.  For  this  purpose  he  has  given 
-^y  "  each  a  2^ound ;  that  is,  the  common  blessing  of  the  gos- 
pel and  its  opportunities.     The  talents  were  different 

1  Parabolic  Teaching  of  Clirist,  p.  220. 


THE  POUNDS.  437 

for  each,  but  the  pound  is  the  same  for  all ;  and  so  it 
aptly  symbolizes  that  gospel  which  preaches  the  same 
truth  to  the  rich  and  to  the  poor,  to  the  learned  and  to 
the  ignorant,  to  the  old  and  to  the  young ;  which  tests  . 
the  character  of  all  to  whom  it  is  proclaimed ;  and 
which  wherever  it  is  believingly  received,  and  in  the 
proportion  in  which  it  is  obeyed,  is  the  great  educator 
of  the  soul  for  eternal  excellence  in  the  heavenly  king- 
dom. In  the  interval  between  his  disappearance  and 
his  re-appearing,  Christ  has  given  us  his  Word ;  and  our 
work  is  to  make  the  best  of  that  Word  for  the  formation 
of  ourselves,  so  that  he  may  know  what  we  shall  be  most 
aptly  fitted  for  at  the  consummation  of  his  coming. 

Now,  bearing  these  things  in  mind,  we  shall  find  in    y 
this  parable,  when  we  examine  it  minutely,  four  differ- 
ent ways  of  dealing  with  this  pound,  and  the  lord  who 
gave  it. 

I.  First  of  all,  there  is  that  illustrated  by  the  good  "' 
and  faithful  servant  who  made  his  one  pound  into  ten. 
He  took  it,  small  as  it  was,  and  made  the  very  best 
possible  improvement  of  it,  so  that  he  increased  it 
tenfold.  So,  when  his  lord  returned,  he  received  this 
commendation  and  reward  :  "■  Well,  thou  good  servant ; 
because  thou  hast  been  faithful  in  a  very  little,  have 
thou  authority  over  ten  cities."  Now,  this  symbolizes 
the  conduct  and  blessedness  of  those  who  make  the 
most  of  their  enjoyment  of  the  gospel  blessings.  They 
do  not  despise  the  day  of  small  things.  They  do  not 
trille  away  their  time  in  idleness,  or  waste  it  in  sin ; 
but  finding  salvation  in  the  gospel,  through  faith  in 
Jesus  Christ,  they  set  themselves  to  turn  every  occupa- 
tion in  which  they  are  engaged,  and  every  providential 
dispensation  through  which  they  may  be    brought,  to 


438  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

the  highest  account,  for  the  development  in  them  of 
the  Christian  character.  They  "  exercise  themselves  to 
keep  a  conscience  void  of  offence  toward  God  and 
N^  toward  men  ;  "  they  make  strenuous  efforts  after  god- 
liness; they  give  all  diligence  to  "add  to  their  faith 
courage,  and  to  their  courage  knowledge,  and  to  their 
knowledge  temperance,  and  to  their  temperance  pa- 
tience, and  to  their  patience  godliness,  and  to  their 
godliness  brotherly  kindness,  and  to  their  brotherly 
kindness  charity."  ^  They  labor  not  for  their  own 
sanctification  merely,  but  for  the  welfare  of  their  fellow- 
men.  And  they  do  all  these  things  in  humble  depend- 
ence on  the  help  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  so  that  at  last,  with 
their  one  pound  multiplied  to  ten,  they  have  ministered 
to  them  an  entrance  abundantly  into  the  everlasting 
kingdom  of  their  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ. 
These  are  the  "  choice  "  specimens  of  the  Christian  char- 
acter and  life ;  believers  like  Paul  and  saints  like  John, 
who,  having  filled  up  their  lives  with  devotion  to  their 
Lord,  receive  at  last  the  highest  measure  of  reward  at 
his  hands.  This  servant  obtained  authority  over  ten 
cities;  but  the  form  of  the  reward  in  the  parable  is 
determined  by  the  fact  that  the  nobleman  went  to 
receive  an  earthly  kingdom,  and  we  get  no  light  from 
it  as  to  the  nature  of  the  reward  which  Christ  will 
give  at  last  to  those  whom  he  delights  to  honor.  All  it 
tells  us  is  that  the  degree  of  the  reward,  whatever  be 
its  nature,  will  be  determined  by  the  fidelity  of  the 
disciple  in  his  present  sphere,  and  the  result  of  that 
U]3on  his  character  and  work.  Perhaps  full  often  this 
noble  one  had  bemoaned  his  shortcomings  and  infirmi- 
ties, his  lack  of  energy  and  his  slowness  of  heart,  say- 
ing,   "  Alas,  I  am  an  unprofitable  servant."      But  his 

1  Acts  xxiv.  1()  ;  1  Tim.  iv.  7  ;  2  Pet.  i.  5-7. 


TUE  POUNDS.  439 

master  did  not  so  depreciate  him.  Nay,  rather,  he 
greeted  him  with  heartiest  congratidation,  saying, 
"  Well,  thou  good  servant."  What  a  blessing  if  we 
shall  be  found  worthy  to  be  thus  addressed  I 

II.  But  another  Avay  of  dealing  with  the  common 
blessing  of  the  gospel  is  illustrated  in  the  case  of  him 
who  had  increased  his  pound  to  five.  He  had  been  a 
real  servant;  but  his  diligence  had  been  less  ardent,  his 
devotion  less  thorough,  his  activity  less  constant,  and 
so  the  lord  simply  said  to  him,  "  Be  thou  also  over  five 
cities."  Here,  you  observe,  were  no  special  words  of 
commendation.  He  is  not  called  a  "good  servant."  It 
is  not  even  said  that  he  had  done  well.  It  was  good 
that  he  had  done  so  much,  but  if  he  had  chosen  he 
might  have  done  much  more ;  and  so  he  becomes  the 
representative  of  the  easy-going  disciple,  who  is  admit- 
ted to  be  a  true  disciple,  but  has  not  felt,  to  the  same 
degree  as  "  first-rate  "  Christians  feel,  the  constraining 
inlluence  of  the  love  of  Christ.  He  had  not  kept  such 
close  watch  over  himself  as  they  had  done.  He  had  not 
given  the  same  diligence  to  the  great  work  of  character- 
making  as  they  had  devoted.  He  had  not  so  concen- 
trated himself  on  the  one  thing  of  following  after  Christ 
as  they  had  done.  And  so  he  had  less  to  show  for  his 
labor.  lie  had  made  less  of  his  opportunities,  therefore 
he  received  a  smaller  reward. 

Here,  as  I  have  already  hinted,  is  the  great  dis- 
tinction between  the  teaching  of  this  .parable,  and  that 
of  the  paral^le  of  the  talents.  In  the  latter,  we  are 
taught  that  equal  improvement  of  unequal  talents  shall 
have  an  equal  proportionate  reward;  but  in  this  we 
are  informed  that  une(pial  improvement  of  the  same 
trust  shall  have  an  unequal  reward.     So  he  who  had 


440  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR    SAVIOUR. 

made  the  one  pound  into  ten  may  be  held  as  sym- 
bolizing those  who  receive  an  "abundant  entrance;" 
this  one  who  made  the  one  pound  into  no  more  than 
five  may  be  regarded  as  representing  such  as  receive 
merely  an  entrance,  without  any  thing  of  the  "abun- 
dantly "  connected  therewith.  There  are  some  who  will 
be  saved  yet  so  as  by  fire,  and  others  who  shall  have 
salvation  in  fulness ;  ^  some  who  shall  have  little  per- 
sonal holiness  on  wliich  to  graft  the  life  of  the  future, 
and  who  shall  thus  be  in  a  lower  place  in  heaven  for 
evermore,  enjoying  its  blessedness  as  thoroughly  as 
they  are  competent  to  do,  yet  having  there  a  position 
analogous  it  may  be,  though  of  course  not  at  all  identi- 
cal, with  that  occupied  by  the  Gideonites  of  old  in  the 
promised  land. 

On  that  drizzly  morning  when  the  corn-ship  stranded 
on  the  Maltese  shore,  all  the  passengers  and  crew 
got  safely  to  land ;  they  had  all  an  entrance  into 
Malta:  but  there  was  little  of  abundance  in  that  en- 
trance, for  some  of  them  floated  ashore  on  broken 
pieces  of  the  wreck.  How  different  such  a  landing, 
from  that  given  to  a  prince  when  he  goes  to  visit  a 
loyal  portion  of  his  dominions  !  Amid  the  enthusiastic 
cheers  of  the  multitude,  accompanied  by  the  thunder  of 
cannon  and  the  stirring  strains  of  martial  music,  he  is 
welcomed  by  the  greatest  of  the  place,  and  led  by  them 
through  streets  festooned  with  flowers,  and  gay  with 
fluttering  flags,  to  the  banqueting-house  that  has  been 
prepared  for  his  reception.  That  is  an  "  abundant " 
entrance.  Such,  and  so  different,  will  be  the  welcomes 
given  to  those  servants  who  have  done  their  very  best 
for  Christ,  and  tliose,  who,  while  truly  his  disciples, 
have  built  wood,  hay,  and  stubble,  instead  of  precious 

i  See  Biniipy's  great  sermon  so  entitled,  in  Weyhouse  Sermons. 


THE  POUNDS.  441 

stones,  into  the  fabric  wliicli  they  have  erected  on  the 
one  great  fouinhition. 

This  man  who  had  the  five  pounds  was  not  so  h)w 
down  in  the  scale  as  many.  Perhaps  he  was  higher 
than  any  one  of  us.  Yet  let  the  difference  between 
his  Lord's  words  to  him,  and  to  the  servant  who  had 
the  ten  pounds,  stir  us  up  to  renewed  diligence  in 
the  cultivation  of  the  spiritual  life,  and  the  further- 
ance of  the  gospel  of  Christ,  both  in  ourselves  and 
in  the  world.  There  is  a  wrong  humility,  which  in- 
deed is  not  humility  at  all,  but  slothfulness,  in  many, 
concerning  this  matter.  "  Oh,  "  say  they,  "  it  will  be 
enough  for  us,  if  we  but  get  within  the  door  of  the 
celestial  mansion;"  and  no  doubt  that  will  be  eternally 
better  than  to  be  shut  out  entirely.  But  the  choi- 
cest Christians  are  those  who  desire  to  be  nearest 
Christ ;  and  if  we  would  get  such  places,  we  must  not 
be  content  with  a  bare  increase  of  our  pound,  but  must 
seek  to  multiply  it  manifold.  Ah !  but  that  is  a  serious 
matter ;  and  those  who  start  out  to  attain  that  end  had 
need  to  ponder  well  the  question  put  by  the  Lord  to 
the  sons  of  Zebedee,  when  they  sought  similar  honor, 
"  Can  ye  drink  of  the  cup  that  I  shall  di-ink  of,  and  be 
baptized  with  the  baptism  that  I  am  baptized  witli?"^ 
Only  thus  and  thereby  can  we  make  tlie  one  pound  into 
the  largest  possible  sum,  and  so  secure  the  "  well  done," 
and  the  seat  on  the  right  hand. 

III.  lUit  the  third  mode  of  dealing  with  the  common 
lirivik'ge  of  the  gospel  is  illustrated  by  the  servant  who 
hid  his  pound  in  the  earth,  after  he  had  carefully  sought 
to  keep  it  from  being  injured,  by  wrapping  it  in  a  napkin. 
As  one  has  said,  "  lie  thought  it  was  enough,  to  do  no 

1  Matt.  XX.  23. 


442  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR   SAVIOUR. 

harm.  He  lost  every  thing  by  an  unbelieving  anxiety 
to  lose  nothing.  He  was  so  afraid  of  doing  any  thing 
amiss,  that  he  did  nothing  at  all.  He  would  make  no 
venture,  and  run  no  risk,  even  when  his  master  bade  him. 
His  was  not  a  case  of  over-conscientiousness :  it  was 
an  instance  of  sloth  and  selfishness  taking  the  thread- 
bare dress  of  superior  i)rudence."  ^  To  add  to  his  folly, 
though  it  was  also  the  explanation  of  it,  he  gave  as  his 
excuse,  that  he  feared  the  austerity  of  his  master,  who, 
he  alleged,  "  took  up  that  which  he  had  not  laid  down, 
and  reaped  that  which  he  did  not  sow."  Now,  as  we 
saw  when  treating  the  parable  of  the  talents,  that 
statement,  even  if  it  had  been  true,  would  not  avail ; 
for  then  his  prudence  ought  to  have  impelled  him  to 
secure  interest  for  the  pound.  But  it  was  not  true, 
and  therefore  he  only  added  insult  to  unfaithfulness  by 
making  such  a  plea.  So  he  stands  as  the  representa- 
tive of  the  great  multitude  of  hearers  of  the  gospel, 
who  simply  do  nothing  whatever  about  it.  They  do 
not  oppose  it ;  they  do  not  laugh  at  it ;  they  do  not 
argue  against  it;  their  worst  enemies  would  not  call 
them  immoral :  but  they  "  neglect  the  great  salvation," 
and  think  that  because,  as  they  phrase  it,  they  have 
done  no  harm,  therefore  they  are  in  no  danger.  But 
Christ  requires  positive  improvement  of  the  privileges 
which  he  bestows.  He  gives  the  seed,  not  to  be  hoarded 
in  the  granar}^  but  to  be  scattered  over  the  field  that 
it  may  be  multiplied  many-fold;  and  though  it  may  not 
seem  so  at  first,  yet  the  keeping  of  it  in  the  granary 
is  as  really  a  disobedience  of  him,  as  w^ould  be  the 
emptying  of  it  out  into  the  sea. 

Negative  excellence,  even  if  that  were  ours,  is  not 
V    positive  obedience.     Innocence  is  not  virtue.    Virtue  is 

^  Tlic  Parables  of  Jesus,  by  E.ev.  James  Wells,  p.  352. 


THE  POUNDS.  443 

innocence  tempted  yet  triumphant,  tried  and  so  proved; 
and  therefore,  when  Christ  seeks  virtue,  it  will  not  be 
enough  to  give  him  innocence.  But,  alas !  who  are  we, 
that  we  should  talk  of  giving  him  innocence?  That 
we  are  guilty,  is  the  very  reason  why  he  has  come  to  us 
with  the  gospel.  What  folly,  therefore,  on  our  part,  to 
neglect  that  by  which  alone  we  can  be  saved  from  guilt, 
and  built  up  in  holiness,  and  then  thirdi  to  excuse  our- 
selves by  saying  that  we  have  done  no  harm !  Oh,  if 
there  be  any  here  to-night,  who  have  been  acting  in  this 
way,  let  them  see  how  utterly  irrational  their  conduct  is, 
and  let  them  dig  up  their  buried  pound,  and  shake  it  out 
of  their  napkin,  and  proceed  at  once  to  use  it  for  the 
glory  of  their  Lord.  Study  these  Gospels.  Get  faith 
in  Ilim  of  whom  they  tell.  Accept  his  principles. 
Obey  his  precepts.  Build  your  lives  after  his  example. 
And  then,  if  you  may  not  get  the  reward  of  him  who 
had  the  ten  pounds,  you  may  perhaps  attain  to  that  of 
liiin  who  had  the  five ;  and,  at  all  events,  you  will 
escape  the  doom  of  him  who,  stripped  of  his  hidd 
trust,  was  thrust  out  into  disgrace. 

IV.  But  now,  finally,  we  have  a  fourth  mode  of  dealing 
with  the  gospel  and  its  Lord,  symbolized  in  the  conduct 
of  those  citizens  who  hated  the  nobleman,  and  said, 
"  We  will  not  have  this  man  to  reign  over  us."  These 
were  the  open  enemies  of  him  who  went  to  receive  his 
kingdom ;  and  they  represent  those  who  defy  the  Lord 
Jesus,  and  set  themselves  against  his  cause.  They 
make  a  merit  of  their  frankness.  When  you  speak  to 
them  of  the  claims  of  Christ  upon  them,  they  reply  that 
there  is  nothing  of  the  hypocrite  about  them.  They 
do  not  pretend  to  be  what  they  are  not ;  they  will 
have  nothing  to  do  with  our  Christ,  and  they  will  go 


V 


444  THE  PARABLES   OF  OUR    SAVIOUR. 

their  own  way  in  spite  of  liim.  Who  is  he,  that  he 
should  demand  their  obedience  ?  Thus  they  are  very 
decided,  and  very  pronounced ;  and  they  think  that 
they  are  better  than  he  was  who  took  the  pound,  and 
hid  it.  But  are  they?  In  the  light  of  this  parable  we 
must  say,  No.  For  the  man  with  the  one  pound  was 
punished  by  the  forfeiture  of  that  pound,  while  these 
enemies  were  slain.  A  man  is  not  the  less  Christ's 
enemy  because  he  is  an  ojoen  and  armed  enemy.  The 
avowal  does  not  change  the  enmity  into  friendship. 
He  is  an  enemy,  and  defies  Christ.  That  is  the  simple 
truth.  And  here  is  the  result :  "  Those  mine  enemies 
which  would  not  that  I  should  reign  over  them,  bring 
hither,  and  slay  them  before  me;"  the  meaning  of 
which  is  thus  resolved  by  Paul:  "They  that  obey  not 
the  gospel  of  Christ  shall  be  punished  with  everlasting 
destruction  from  the  presence  of  the  Lord,  and  from 
the  glory  of  his  power,  when  he  shall  come  to  be  glori- 
fied in  his  saints,  and  to  be  admired  among  all  them  that 
believe."  ^  Oh,  why  will  j^ou  recklessly  rush,  my  unbe- 
lieving and  disobedient  friend,  on  such  a  doom  ?  Con- 
sider your  ways,  I  entreat  you,  and  let  your  enmity  to 
Christ  give  place  forthwith  to  simple  trust  in  him  and 
sincere  love  for  him.  And  thus  you  will  secure  at 
length  an  entrance  into  his  kingdom. 


We  have  come  to-night  to  the  end  of  our  study  of 
the  Ivedeemer's  parables.  For  twenty-eight  sabbath 
evenings  we  have  been  engaged  together  in  the  pleasant 
and  profitable  work  ;  and  as  we  have  gone  on,  we  have 
had  deeper  insight  into  the  heart  of  our  Master,  and 
glimpses  into    regions   of  truth,  which,  perhaps,  were 

1  2  Thess.  i.  8-10. 


THE  POUNDS.  445 

heretofore  unlvnown  by  us.  When  I  began,  I  feared 
tliat  the  way  had  been  so  frequently  trodden,  that  little 
freshness  would  be  found  in  it  by  us.  I  thought  of  my 
work  as  that  of  a  belated  gleaner  in  a  well-raked  field. 
But  it  has  been  far  otherwise  ;  and  I  know  not  if  from 
any  of  our  winter  studies  in  the  word  of  God,  whether 
of  the  Old  Testament  or  the  New,  we  have-  gathered  in 
so  many  sheaves  of  golden  grain  as  we  have  done  dur- 
ing these  past  months  from  the  exposition  of  these  ex- 
quisite stories.  It  is  an  affecting  thought,  to  me,  that 
some  of  those  who  began  the  investigation  of  them  with 
us  are  now  no  longer  in  this  earthly  sphere,  but  have 
gone  into  that  region  which  awaits  us  all.  They 
have  now  the  key  to  much  that  is  still  mysterious  to 
us  here ;  and  their  removal  is  a  loud  warning  to  us  all 
to  improve  the  passing  opportunities  so  that  we  may  gain 
at  last  the  "well  done,"  with  which,  as  I  trust,  they 
have  been  greeted.  Do  not  let  us  forget  that  these 
studies  have  increased  our  responsibilities,  and  that  if 
we  are  not  the  better  for  them  we  must  inevitably  be 
the  worse.  We  have  been  very  near  the  Saviour  all  the 
while.  Have  we  learned  thereby  to  love  Him  more  ?  or 
must  it  be  with  any  of  us  as  with  that  disciple,  who 
heard  all  the  parables  at  the  first,  and  yet  went  "to  his 
own  place  "  at  last  ?  "  Now  unto  Him  that  is  able  to 
keep  you  from  falling,  and  to  })resent  you  faultless 
l)ef()re  the  presence  of  his  glory  with  exceeding  joy,  to 
the  only  wise  God  our  Saviour,  be  glory  and  majesty, 
dominion  and  power,  both  now  and  ever.     Amen."-; 


DO 


Date  Due 


TAYLOR  .  •  B  -  Preaching 

Parables  of 
Our  Saviour. 


